


The Sea Lives in Us

by bebe_writer



Series: Where Hounds and Wolves Run Free [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-07-11 15:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 83,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19930489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bebe_writer/pseuds/bebe_writer
Summary: Sequel to Long Road Ahead ::Arya has her ships and she has her mate. What will she find when she's out to sea and the games follow her?





	1. Sandor

Sandor and Arya were fast asleep in their bed gently swaying with the waves that rocked the ship. Sandor woke with an annoyed grunt when Arya unconsciously kicked her heel backwards and her foot came in contact with his shin. He was lying on his side with Arya’s back pressed against his chest. Her head was pillowed on his arm while his other arm was wrapped snugly around her midsection. One of her hands was outstretched and clutching the fingers of the arm that was under her head. At some point in the night he must’ve placed his head on top of hers to be closer to her. He thought it was odd that he was so comfortable even though he practically slept on top of another human being.

He yawned and looked down at his wolf-bitch, contemplating to wake her for the day or let her sleep for another hour.

Everyday on this boat was complete paradise for him. He would wake up in the arms of a woman who had cut down countless men, wake her with kisses, for which earned him a sleepy smile and affectionate petting, and then they would get ready for their day. The first week he was dumbfounded that he enjoyed the odd domesticity of getting dressed and eating breakfast every morning with her, but now he looked forward to it everyday. He enjoyed it even more when she barked orders at the men and called them idiots for fucking up in one way or another. 

They had been to sea for well over a month now and they still came across nothing. He was curious if they ever would. He honestly didn’t really care one way or another. However, it would be nice to see Arya’s face light up like wildfire and reward him with that dazzling smile if they found some, if any land. He was only graced with that smile a few times prior and he wanted to see it again.

Sandor was ripped from his thoughts when she groaned in annoyance and stretched her whole body taut like the string on a bow. She pulled her hand from his own only to roll over in his arms and burry her face into his hairy chest. She wrapped her arm around his ribs and hitched her bare leg over his hip in attempts to fall back asleep. He smiled into her hair and knew her attempts were futile. She always tried and failed to fall back asleep when she woke too early.

He did, however, appreciate that every night she wore one of his sarks to bed. It made him oddly possessive and aroused seeing her tiny frame being swallowed by the fabric of his large shirt.

He enclosed her in his arms and kissed the crown of her head, deeply inhaling her scent as he did so. When he started rubbing her back she hummed in response. She kissed his chest and clutched his shoulder tightly.

“Mmm… that feels good,” she mumbled against his skin.

Sandor let his hand travel down her back, over her bottom, and clutched the back of her thigh to hitch her leg higher up his hip.

“We should get up,” he rumbled.

“Aye, we should,” she said without moving a muscle.

Sandor grinned into her hair before he leaned back and peered down at her. “Want to eat in here?” he asked.

Arya beamed up at him and nodded enthusiastically. He leaned down to give her a chaste kiss but was caught by surprise when her tiny hand wound into his hair to prod open his mouth with her tongue. He kissed her deeply, letting his hand run up her thigh to clutch her bare bottom. Another thing he enjoyed was that she never wore anything under his sark, making it easier for him to get her naked whenever he wanted.

When she finally broke the kiss he was panting for her. She smiled at him again and swiftly kissed his nose before giving him a gentle push to get up.

“Come _on_ , Sandor,” she said when he was trying to pull her closer. “I’m starving and we have a lot of work to do today.”

Sandor chuckled and finally pulled himself away from her and got dressed.

He could feel her eyes on him as he left their cabin and wondered if she would let him fuck her after breakfast. Most likely not, she was always whining that they had work to do or some other horeshite. If it were up to him he would lock them both in that room and leave the men to figure out the day’s coordinates.

When he got to the living deck he began piling two heaping bowls of porridge. He drowned her porridge in sugar and dried berries as he remembered she preferred her food sweet.

He saw one of the Navigators approach him and stop to obviously ogle the two bowls Sandor held.

“Is the Captain well, my Lord?” he asked.

“I’m no Lord,” Sandor muttered. “Her health is well. She will be with you momentarily.” When he tried to walk around the skinny man he sidestepped with him.

“I need to go over some details with her today,” he said looking in the direction of their cabin. “I was hoping to do it over breakfast, but I see she has made other… arrangements.”

It was clear to Sandor that the man was somewhat repulsed by their relationship, most people were. It was odd to have a highborn and a lowborn together, let alone the stark physical contrast between Arya and himself.

“The Captain will be out on deck at her regular scheduled time,” Sandor growled. “And if you have a problem with that, why don’t you go knock on that door and request her presence? I’m sure she would be happy to accommodate you.”

Sandor watched happily as he clearly was trying to sputter a retort, the very thought of him knocking on the door only to find Arya in such a state of undress made him smile. She would surely lash out at the man and threaten to throw him overboard for disturbing her at such an early hour. Her temper was notorious amongst the men and they knew not to fuck with her.

Sandor grunted in amusement when the man clenched his teeth, turned his heel, and stalked away.

When Sandor sauntered back into the cabin he placed the bowls on the side table so he could latch the door. He turned around and admired the sight before him.

Arya was lounging in his bed with his sark riding up her leg threatening to show off a portion of that tight little arse of hers. The sheets were tangled amongst her pale legs and she was clutching his pillow under her head. Her hair was all mussed up from sleep and… other things from the night previous. Up until Arya he never had a woman in lay in his bed for longer than a quick fuck. Whore’s never hugged or missed him when he was gone.

She must’ve sensed his staring because she turned over and gave him an annoyed look.

“Well? Are we going to eat or are you just going to stand around all day?” she said clearly irritated.

He grinned and pushed himself off the door and grabbed the bowls. She was always a bitch if she was hungry; she was like him in that matter.

They ate in silence and when he finished before she did, he put his hand on top her head and began petting the soft tresses. He liked feeling her hair when it was down. She so rarely wore it that way he was going to take advantage of it.

“Your Navigator is a pain in the ass,” he said quietly when she finished eating.

“Which one? Ryton or Tumorey?” he said.

“The skinny one with the light hair and cunt mouth,” Sandor grunted.

Arya laughed once and leaned back against the headboard and closed her eyes. “Ryton. And he does not have a cunt mouth. He’s one of the most skilled Navigators I’ve ever seen.” She yawned before she continued. “Remember when we got caught in that storm last week? He was the one that helped get us out of it.”

“Good for fucking him,” Sandor growled. It was odd hearing her compliment other men. He didn’t like it. “He was probably too busy navigating he never learned how to lift a fucking sword over his head with his frail little arms.”

Arya opened her eyes and smiled devilishly at him. She leaned against his side and let her head rest on his shoulder. “You don’t need to be jealous. I think he thinks I’m disgusting,” she said.

“What?” Sandor snapped looking down at her angrily.

Arya shrugged, seemingly unconcerned.

“Did he say that to you?” Sandor hissed.

Arya shook her head sleepily. “No, but I can tell. It was the same look Sansa gave us when we told her we were in love,” she said.

Sandor exhaled heavily through his nose and tried to settle his temper.

Arya looked up at him and rubbed his chest soothingly. “It’s alright, Sandor. I don’t care what he, or anyone else thinks of us.”

When he didn’t answer she sighed and stood up on her knees and moved to straddle his lap. Her hands wound around his neck and he let his hands ball into fists on her thighs.

“I’ve already made peace with the fact that everyone is going to judge us on our age and class difference. You should too,” she said softly before she began kissing down his jaw.

Sandor snorted. “Aye, I just don’t want your name to be dragged even further through the mud because you’re with a shit like me.”

Arya kissed him on the forehead and looked at him deeply. Sandor finally unballed his fists and brushed the stray hairs away from her face.

“My name will always be dragged through the mud because of my own actions. Their opinions have nothing to do with you,” she whispered tenderly.

Sandor simply nodded once and cast his eyes down. He saw that his sark was riding high on her hips revealing her pale inner thighs, just a few inches higher and he would see the small patch of hair between her legs.

He growled hungrily and swooped down to suck on the base of her throat.

Arya laughed breathlessly. “Down, boy,” she said even though she was clutching the back of his head.

Sandor smiled against her throat and moved his hand to slide the sark up her thigh only to have his it slapped away completely.

When Arya moved to get off his lap he gripped her hips to keep her where she was.

“Will you sit still, woman? We have enough time for me to fuck you once before we have to get out there.”

Arya began tugging at his wrists while speaking. “If Ryton needs to speak with me than its probably important,” she said.

“Let him wait,” Sandor said nibbling on her ear.

“Sandor,” Arya said seriously.

When he didn’t relent, she went with a different tactic. “I’ll suck your cock tonight if you let me go,” she negotiated.

Sandor stopped his ministrations and considered the deal for a moment.

“ _And_ you’ll bring me food _and_ we eat in here,” he demanded.

“Yes,” Arya sighed.

“You promise?” he asked.

Arya laughed once and pinched his cheek like a little boy. “I promise,” she said, clearly amused. 

Sandor exhaled noisily and patted her behind before he finally let her get up and get dressed.

And although he looked forward to the evening, she said nothing about him dragging her away at midday for a quick tumble.

He grinned as he followed her out the door to begin their day.


	2. Arya

Arya watched the men scurry about on the deck to prepare for the upcoming sail today. The winds were coming from the north, which meant it would be a difficult day to keep the ship on its scheduled course. It also meant that her presence would be required on hand at every instance throughout the day. Arya sighed, she knew she would have to even eat her meals on deck if required.

She nodded at Sandor and they separated for the day. She doubted she would speak to him again unless it was to order him to do something. He usually handled the men down below and she would handle those up top. It was preference for both of them, but she knew he wanted it that way just in case any men tried to give her a hard time. At least above deck she couldn’t be backed away into a corner.

Arya turned and saw one of the Dornish men leaning against the mast while picking at his teeth.

“The fuck you think your doing?” Arya barked at the man making him jump in surprise. “Get off your ass and help the other men with the headsail!”

The man sprinted over to the other group of men that were to the left of the boom.

“My lady,” Ryton said walking next to her before bowing.

Arya sighed and glared at him. “How many times have I told you to stop calling me that, Ryton?” she asked irately.

Reyton bit his lip and nodded. “Apologies my Captain, force of habit. It will not happen again.”

Arya nodded and she motioned him to follow her into the Captain’s cabin.

Her courters were much larger than what she and Sandor were used to sharing. When they were still in Kings Landing they slept in Sandor’s chambers, which were no larger than a regular soldier’s room. But now they had the space for a bed that actually fit Sandor’s towering figure. Overtop the bed was a large window to look out to the vast seas that stretched across the horizon. Off to the right of the bed there was a large oak table that they used to hold various maps and geographical tools to plan the direction they needed to go. The floor was covered in expensive rugs and carpets with a small vanity in the back for Sandor to shave and Arya to do her hair. Not that she needed it really; it took her less time to get ready in the morning than it did him some days.

Ryton followed her inside and they made their way over to the table. He explained that if they fight against the wind for the next few hours they might overpass it and have to use less exertion in the long run. It would mean more work in the morning, but the wind would be at their backs come the evening.

“It’s a good plan,” she observed while hunched over the table scrutinizing the map. “Very well, we will try it this way. If the men can’t hold steadfast, we’ll anchor for the day and pray to the God’s that the northern wind will shift tomorrow.”

Ryton nodded and began rolling up the maps. His gaze lingered on the large unmade bed in the centre of the room. At first Arya ignored his gaze but when she noticed he was unrelenting she sighed heavily and placed her hands on her hips.

“You have something on your mind, Ryton?” she snapped.

Ryton quickly swallowed and quickly shook his head, busying himself with rolling the maps up.

Arya snorted and made to leave but was stopped when he finally spoke.

“I heard the Second Captain killed the Lord of Storms End when he tried to touch you,” he said quietly.

Arya turned and looked at the man up and down. She didn’t know what he had to say, but she most certainly wasn’t expecting that.

“He did kill him, but that’s not the reason why,” she corrected him. “Lord Baratheon tried to kill the Second Captain. It was self-defense on Sandor’s part.”

Ryton nodded while looking down.

She didn’t know the navigator immensely well. She knew he was from the Iron Islands, she knew he never married, and she also knew he had vast knowledge of the sea as he was Second Captain for several naval ships for almost ten years. She also knew that as soon as they put word out that they were looking to sail west, his raven was one of the first applications that arrived. She knew he had a deep desire to sail west, maybe even more so than she did.

“I also heard he abandoned King Geoffery in the middle of battle,” he said looking at the ground.

Arya felt her blood rise as she walked around the table to stand in front of him.

“If you have questions on where your Second Captain’s loyalty lies than just say it, Ryton,” she hissed.

He looked down at her and sighed. “I just want you to be careful. The men would never respect him as they do you. They fear him.”

Arya snorted and backed away from the man. She kept her cold façade on her face even though she was immensely curious about this next bit.

“You took this job even though it is below your regular salary you would get in the Iron Islands. Why?”

Ryton looked shocked by the question. “It… well… ever since I was a boy I wanted to sail west of Westross. I just thought this was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”

Arya looked him up and down threateningly for five heartbeats before she spoke.

He wasn’t as tall as Sandor obviously, but he was taller than an average man. She could see his hands were weathered and torn up. Not from years of fighting, but pulling rigs and the natural destruction that came with years at sea. He was older than she, probably three and ten, maybe more. His eyes were the color of leaves and he had stubble along his face. She was shocked when he said he never married. He seemed to be handsome enough that any willing maid would welcome him into her bed. She supposed it had something to do with his transient lifestyle, always sailing off this way and that. He probably never had time to settle down with a woman.

Arya took a step forward with her gaze never leaving his own. “Next time you feel the need to warn me about the Second Captain, please have some proof that he is a treasonous as you think. Otherwise I will sick him on you like the dogs in Kings Landing.”

With that Arya left him flabbergasted in the room.

She decided that Sandor was right. He did have a cunt mouth.

The rest of her day was spent running back and forth to help with various tasks in fighting off the northern winds. When they reached midday it was like the sky opened up and the heavens shone their light on them, for the wind suddenly changed course and it was blowing steadily at their backs, pushing them along with ease.

Some of the men cheered and Arya couldn’t help the small smile that crossed her face. She looked over to Ryton and nodded her thanks for which he responded with his own nod.

“Alright!” Arya yelled. “Those of you that have been working since dawn can get some food and rest. We will trade shifts with the others afterwards.”

The men cheered joyfully and began splitting off to get to the living courters below deck.

Arya stayed above and walked to the bow of the ship, looking out to the sea. She inhaled deeply and folded her arms across her chest to protect herself from the cold. She loved the smell of the sea. The day she left Kings Landing she realized that she loved this boat and loved the water more. She never wanted to leave.

After a few moments she heard the unmistakable clomping of Sandor’s boots dragging against the wooden floor as he made his way to stand next to her.

“What you doing up here?” he asked. “You’re usually hungrier than most of the men down there.”

“I was waiting until the line dissipated. They worked hard today. I’ll leave them a few moments where they don’t have to accomplish such heavy duties and eat in peace.”

“So the skinny fucker was right, then?” Sandor asked clearly referring to Ryton’s earlier plan.

Arya grinned and looked at the ocean waves. It was always funny how Sandor would suddenly hate someone for something as minor as talking to him. She had to admit she thought his juvenile behavior was quite endearing.

“Aye,” she said. “The skinny fucker was right.”

She heard Sandor snort and lean against the railing with both hands in a comfortable silence. He suddenly turned around so his back was facing the ocean so he could look her in the eye. He had an odd expression on his face and Arya was instantly suspicious.

“Wanna fuck?” he asked bluntly.

Arya burst out laughing and he grinned back at her beneath his bushy beard.

“I already made my deal with you this morning,” she said wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes.

“Yes, you said you’d suck my cock. And you still will, I just figure since we have all this time between now and when we start work again…” Sandor shrugged still clearly waiting on a response.

“No, Sandor,” she said rolling her eyes. “The men would be in the next room, they could hear us!”

“We’ve been quiet before,” he said reaching for her only to have her dodge his grasp. 

Arya stuck her tongue out at him and turned to walk away only for Sandor to follow her with a swift smack to the rump. Arya squeaked and jumped in surprise before she jutted her elbow backwards against his ribs.

“Bitch,” he mumbled under his breath.

When they made it downstairs Arya grabbed a plate of food and made her way to an empty table with Sandor at her heels. She always made a point to eat with the men even though she preferred to eat alone with Sandor. She always hated how Lords and Ladies would eat in separate establishments and have special areas only designated for royals. She flat out refused to lead that way. Some of the men look completely shell shocked the first few meals she ate at their tables. But after a while they seemed to grow used to it. Some of them even were going as far to converse with her and Sandor.

Arya also sat with them because then she knew the details of their lives and who would cause her trouble. Really it was a way for her to gain information on each individual to find out who would be the most loyal in times of need. She always kept a watchful eye when she was in Braavos, so she would also keep a watchful eye here too.

And although he never voiced it, Sandor was clearly unhappy with this leading choice. Not because he thought he had a better idea, but because he hated being around so many people all at once. He hated crowds, but she knew he understood why she was doing this. He would rarely speak to anyone unless directly asked a question. A few times Arya had to kick him to elaborate and stop being a grumpy shit all the time.

Arya could feel Ryton looking at her from across the room. She knew he was staring at her the moment she walked down the steps with Sandor. She sighed and stealthily put her hand on Sandor’s leg under the table. Wordlessly he looked down at her and she made the slightest nod in the direction of Ryton. He made an innocent gesture to pretend to look around the room. She noticed him paused in the direction of Ryton ever so slightly before slumping back down to his stew.

“I don’t know if I trust him yet,” she mumbled quietly.

“Why’s that?” he asked just as quietly.

“I’ll tell you later.”

Sandor huffed in irritation but otherwise let it go.


	3. Sandor

That night after the shifts had changed and the night crew was set, he finally convinced Arya to retire for the evening. She was incredibly diligent with her duties as captain which made Sandor both proud and annoyed with her. Sometimes he just wanted her to slack off to give him more attention.

She did hold up her end of the bargain they made earlier in the day. After they ate she slithered down his body and undid the laces on his breeches. He just placed his hands behind his head and watched as she had her way with him. When he finished they lay together quietly with Arya draped over him. His head was propped against the headboard while he looked over his little wolf-bitch.

He was happy as his belly was full and his cock was freshly sucked. He had to admit that he enjoyed conjugal living even though he would never admit it to his lover.

Sandor yawned and glided down the bed and through Arya’s arms so he could lay on his back with his head lying on her belly. He felt her gently maneuver her body so the feather pillows supported her head and ran her hands over his cheeks. They lay there for a while before he finally spoke.

“Why don’t you trust him?” he mumbled almost asleep.

He heard Arya sigh deeply before answering.

“He was trying to get more information out of me when we were planning today,” she murmured. “Then he warned me to be cautious of your loyalty.”

Sandor snorted and snatched her hand and kissed her palm before holding it against his cheek.

“What information?” he asked muffled by her hand.

“Things about Gendry and Geoffery. How you killed them both. Stuff like that,” she said as she absentmindedly ran her fingers up and down his jaw.

Sandor grunted and craned his head to look up at her. “You want me to speak to him?”

Arya grinned down at him before she answered. “I told him I would make you kill him if he accused your loyalty to me again.”

Sandor barked out a laugh loudly and let his hand fall down to her leg and gave it a playful slap.

“That sounds like my wolf-bitch,” he said.

Arya hummed in agreement and just continued to stroke his cheeks and pressed her forehead against his affectionately. After a while he grunted again and sat up. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her onto hip lap with her legs dangling over his thighs.

He was always amazed at how light she was. It was like lifting a small child sometimes. It astounded him even more that such a tiny little thing could skin a man where he stood without the blink of an eye.

“You think we need to be worried about him?” he asked.

Arya seemed to think about it for quite some time before answering. “No. But I think we should be cautious of what we reveal to him.”

Sandor rolled his eyes at that.

“I like that you hate people just as much as I do. I don’t think privacy is something we need to be worried about.”

Arya cocked her head and regarded him with confusion. “Then what do you think we need to be worried about?”

Sandor stared at her seriously before he took her face in between his hands. “I think he wants to be Captain of the ship. I think he’s just as slippery as Cersei Lannister.” He never said it out loud, but he did have his suspicions. Just the fact that Ryton had tried to get Arya to second-guess him was enough to confirm his reservations.

“Why do you think that?” Arya asked.

Sandor removed his hands from her cheeks and up to undo the topknot that was still tied into her head as he spoke. “I overheard him talking a week ago. I heard he’s wanted to do this voyage for quite some time. He sounded angry that a woman was leading it, let alone a Stark woman. I think he’s going to try a drive a wedge between us while we travel in attempts to get your job title, or mine for that matter.”

When her hair fell down to her shoulders he combed his fingers through it while quietly waiting for her answer. When she didn’t respond he saw her looking out the window, considering his theory. He rested his hands on her legs and waited patiently for her to respond.

“Alright,” she said finally turning back to him. “I’ll keep an eye on him then.”

Sandor felt his eyebrows hit his hairline. “That’s it? I’m right? No arguments? No trying to bite my head off for accusing your choice of Navigator?” he said incredulously.

Arya snorted and gripped his chin in her hand. “Don’t gloat,” she quipped with a sly smile. “You made a good point, for once in your life.”

Sandor grinned back at her and kissed her deeply, inhaling the scent of the ocean salt water on her pale skin.

When his tongue danced with hers he let his hand travel up her body to cup her small breast over her clothes. He could barely get the handful he was used to as they were still strapped down from the day.

“Take those blasted things off,” he growled while tugging at the bindings around her chest she wore everyday. “I always hate it when you wear them. I like being able to see your tits.”

Arya broke the kiss to laugh and he moved his lips to her neck.

“I’m sure most men would agree since I am the only female on the ship,” she said a little breathlessly.

He began to undo her clothes while he continued to suck on her pulse. When her breeches were loose enough she jumped off his lap and wiggled out of them and he did the same. When they were both finally naked he crawled on top of her so he was nestled between her thighs.

She sighed as he kissed her neck lazily while his hands fondled her breasts. He gasped when he felt her hand touch his growing erection.

“Sandor,” she breathed beneath him. “I just sucked your cock not long ago and now you want me again?” she asked in disbelief.

Sandor chuckled against her breast and looked up at her flushed face. “I always want you,” he murmured turning back to her nipple so he could graze it with his teeth. “Every time I see you with the sun on your skin and the sea at your boots, I want to bend you over the side of the ship and fuck you senseless.”

Arya moaned when he grazed her other nipple with his hand sliding down her belly. He felt her arch her back and saw her legs spread wide open for him. When his fingers made their way in between her folds she whimpered his name. He moved his lips back up her body slowly, only stopping to lick the sweat that was forming on her chest.

Arya was panting now with her chest rising and falling rapidly. She was gripping the sheets above her head and her body was quivering, but Sandor didn’t let that stop his fingers from moving in between her legs.

“Sandor,” she moaned loudly.

“Yes, sweetling?” he asked in mock innocence.

She groaned in frustration but couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence. Her whole body was now squirming on the bed. Sandor had difficulty keeping her still so he could continue fingering her. When he knew she was good and wet he pulled his fingers away making her groan in disappointment.

He slunk back up her body so he could kiss her deeply. He was not surprised when her tongue rammed against his own with the ferocity of a bull to a red sheet. Her fingers were like claws on his back and were digging up the old scabs for which she was also responsible.

He grunted and wrapped his hand around her throat in warning, not enough to choke her, but enough to give her warning to be gentler. When she finally unleashed her nails from his back, she grabbed him by the face and yanked him down to start biting him on his jaw and neck. Sandor felt his eyes roll into the back of his head when she did that. She was acting just like the wolf she was supposed to be and he found exceptionally erotic.

“Alright, little wolf,” he whispered. “Normally I’d wait till you were begging for me, but you drive me fucking crazy when you act like a wild animal,” he choked against her shoulder.

Arya whined like a pup again and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Sandor positioned himself at her entrance, just teasing her with the head of his cock at first. He then moved the tip around in circles around her sensitive nub making her cry out his name.

“Fuck, Sandor,” she whimpered while slamming her head back into the pillows in frustration. “Not tonight, don’t tease me tonight. I want you. Right now.”

Sandor leaned down and kissed her hard on the mouth and shoved his thick cock into her tight centre in one thrust.

Arya gasped into the kiss but he didn’t relent. He started pumping into her mercilessly while shoving his tongue in her mouth. When she pulled away from the kiss she bit him again on the high on the neck roughly. Hard enough to leave a big purple welt.

When they first boarded the ship she made a rule that neither of them could mark each other for the crew to see. He wanted the men to respect her so he reluctantly agreed. However, since then they had a few slip ups, they then came to the agreement that if either of them accidently bit the other in a visual area, that the receiver of the bite could do what he/she wanted. Sandor was actually proud they had come up with such a professional arrangement and was particularly excited that he did so at this very moment.

Sandor groaned as he felt her teeth make contact with his skin. Up until he bedded Arya he never liked biting. He thought it was odd and useless. But that first night he and Arya fucked and she was biting more than any other woman he was ever with, he was hooked. He loved and sometimes even craved her biting and scratching. It was just as savage as he believed her to be.

Her thighs were gripping his ribs so tightly he thought she might break them, but he didn’t care. All he cared about were the sounds coming out of her pink lips and the feel of his cock sliding in and out of her dripping wet folds.

Sandor could feel her walls beginning to close around him and heard her gasps turn into whimpers and moans. He dropped his head to her neck and licked it from shoulder to ear, wanting to taste her skin one last time for the evening. He then grabbed her hair by the fistful and yanked her head to the side roughly making her grunt.

He bit her hard on the neck and he felt her whole body pause from her shaking as he kept his rough pace in fucking her. She then cried out in a different language and writhed and shook like a leaf beneath him. She squirmed and twisted under his body but he kept her right where she was so he could keep sliding his cock in and out of her. He wanted her to ride out her climax as far as he could.

Sandor groaned when he felt his own orgasm take a hold of him. She held onto him and met each of his last thrusts into her. She sucked on his neck and raked her hands through his hair. She gasped her love for him when he finally emptied his seed into her belly.

He looked down and saw she was gasping for air with her eyes looking as dangerous as a wolf. Her hair was splayed out like a fan around her head and sweat covered her body. Sandor leaned down and licked the sweat that had accumulated between her breasts making her whimper. He remembered when she first licked him like that and it drove him mad. He hoped it had the same effect on her, as he loved doing it.

He leaned down and gave her a sloppy kiss in which she returned in exhaustion. He pressed his forehead against hers and looked into the vast grey of her eyes.

“Seven Hell’s, girl,” he panted.

Arya nodded in agreement and he felt her tiny hand begin stroking his hair while her feet fell tiredly from around his ribs.

Sandor rolled off her and dragged her limp body across the mattress so he could encircle her in his arms on his side. With her back against his chest he kissed her shoulder and she rubbed his forearm lovingly. She hummed and kissed the arm she was laying on gently as her fingers moved up and down on his other arm.

Sandor let them lay like that for a few moments to catch their breath before he spoke again.

“We’ll keep an eye on him then?” he asked.

Arya burst out laughing at his bad timing but nodded in agreement.


	4. Arya

Arya awoke feeling heat radiating all over her body. She groaned and realized that with Sandor wrapped around her combined with the heavy furs over the bed, it was making her body uncomfortably warm.

She quickly shucked off the furs and slid out of the bed quietly so not to wake him. She quickly cleaned herself of the sweat and sex from last night in the washing basin and dressed for the day. She looked over to the enormous bed and saw Sandor’s hulking frame in the furs. From a distance it looked like a bear was sleeping in her bed and not a man she was just cuddling with.

Arya walked over to him and kissed him on the temple tenderly. Sandor shifted and she could tell he was about to wake. He always rolled over onto his back and stretched his massive arms when he was getting up in the morning. Arya sat down on the edge of the bed and waited for him to open his eyes.

When he looked up at her she leaned down and kissed him lightly on the lips. He suddenly grabbed her by the front of her jacket and yanked her back down to prolong the kiss. She giggled under his affections but accepted the deep kiss nonetheless.

When it ended she bumped her forehead against his lightly.

“Mornin',” he mumbled beneath her.

“Morning,” she replied. When she started to pull away again he suddenly grabbed her by the forearms and rolled them over so she was pinned beneath his heavy body.

She could have easily flipped him off her, but she let him have his fun for now. She liked when he was so playful in the morning rather than being so grumpy about her waking him before he was ready.

She let him kiss the giant purple welt on her throat and heard him growl.

“I like this,” he murmured.

Arya smiled and scratched his head. “You would,” she said making him chuckle.

When he started to undo the clasps of her tunic she used a Braavosian technique to flip him onto his back with her straddling his chest and his arms pinned beneath her knees. Since she never showed this to him before he looked surprised and somewhat impressed.

“We have shit to do today, Sandor,” she said amusedly. 

Sandor groaned and tried to wiggle out of her hold. It was clear that his attempts were futile he huffed in irritation. She knew he hated when she bested him on the battlefields. He hated it even more when they were sparring with each other and she landed him on his back.

“We always used to fuck in the morning,” he whined. “And you said that yesterday!”

Arya rolled her eyes and got off him to quickly stand beside the bed before he could grab at her again. “Aye, well, that was before we were surrounded by a bunch of my men with nothing but paper thin walls to muffle the noise.”

Sandor groaned in frustration but got up and stood before her completely naked. Arya took a cautious step back in case he tried anything but he just chuckled darkly.

“One day my balls are actually going to turn blue and it’ll be all your fault,” he muttered before he walked passed her and ruffled her hair.

Arya smiled and turned to admire his statue-like body at the washing basin.

The muscles along the backs of his thighs bulged out from years of physically demanding work. His shoulders were large and rounded like the rocks she and Bran used to play on. The lines in his back were deep and sculpted. Arya actually turned around and bit her lip in embarrassment that she was staring.

His back was also littered with scars. Gashes from swords, puncture wounds from arrows, stab wounds that matched hers on her belly, and a lot of whip marks that criss-crossed every which way. One time when they were lying in bed Arya had kissed all over his back and shoulders and asked where every scar came from. Most were from battle, some were from bar room brawls, but the whipping scars he was reluctant to tell. When he finally did he muttered that his father was a shit. Arya knew that his father hurt him more than just in a physical way. Arya had softly kissed every one of those scars that night. She saw that he had goose bumps on his arms so she knew it meant something to him that she was comforting him.

She quickly grabbed her needle and strapped it to her belt. She turned back around and was thankful that he at least had his breeches on so she wouldn’t be caught staring again.

When she went to unlatch the door he grabbed her by the belt and yanked her forward to stand in front of him.

“You gonna be busy over lunch today?” he asked.

Arya shook her head and ran her hands up his massive bare back, happy that she could feel the muscles she was admiring moments ago.

“I’ll find you then,” she murmured against his skin.

Sandor nodded and for a moment they just held each other, basking the warmth that the other body gave them. Her heart was soaring when she saw him smile warmly at her. She gave his hand a tight squeeze before she turned and left their cabin to attend to her duties for the day.

Over the course of the day Arya was busy, to say the least. Right when she left their cabin one of the crewmen informed her of a cannon that lost a wheel the night previous that needed fixing, as well as a mast that needed polishing and sanding as it was beginning to rot. When she assigned separate teams to fix both problems it seemed as though another two popped up right after.

Right when she was about to take her lunch a fight broke out between a Northerner and a Dornish soldier over an unsettled debt.

Arya groaned when she saw the first fist fly through the air. She was tired of these two people being unable to squash their differences. Throughout the entire journey it seemed the two were at each other’s throats and she was sick of it.

She stomped over to break up the fight and suddenly she saw Ryton appear in between the two bodies and gave both of them a shove backwards.

“Enough!” he yelled while trying to break the struggle.

Arya unsheathed her needle as well as her valaryian dagger and pointed it at both men making the fight stop all together.

“If you two can’t settle your differences on the boat than you can settle them in the fucking water when I throw you overboard,” Arya snarled.

She turned to the Northerner and glared at him. “Pay him what you owe,” she snapped. When he didn’t move right away she pressed her needle to his throat a little harder. “ _Now_.”

The Northerner huffed and reached into his pocket and handed the Dornnishman three pieces of gold begrudgingly.

“Now,” Arya said taking away her blades from their throats. “If all of you can’t play nice than what the fuck are we even doing here?” she yelled to everyone. “I don’t care where you are from or who you used to serve. On this ship you do as you’re told and you can just forget all that other shit. It’s in the past. Now go eat!”

When the men solemnly slumped to the living courters for food she saw Ryton beeline towards her.

“Excellent work, Captain!” he said in a chipper tone.

Arya had to hold herself back from rolling her eyes. She hated it when people kissed ass. Especially hers. She just nodded curtly at him before she turned to follow the men to get food, only to have him follow her.

“You are much better at conflict resolution than I,” he continued.

“It’s quite easy when it’s between two men than can’t get their head out of their ass,” she muttered.

“All the same, My Lady,” he said. “Marvelous work.”

Arya stopped midstride.

“Stop dancing around and tell me what it is that you want, Ryton,” she snapped. She didn’t want to play his game anymore. She just wanted him to go away and do his work.

Ryton sighed and glared at the ground. He must’ve realized that flattery would get him nowhere when it came to her.

“I would like to have my own courters to view the maps in private,” he said finally. “I am constantly being interrupted by several men when I have to do it above deck.”

This time Arya didn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes.

“Then why didn’t you just say so?” she asked irritated. “You can use the storage room where we keep the artillery for now until I can find something more suitable.”

Ryton beamed at her and bowed, even though she told him a thousand times not to do so.

“Thank-you, My Lady,” he said before he scurried away.

Arya turned and slammed into a hard surface. She looked up and realized that she had thumped into Sandor who purposely snuck up behind her and stood so she would bump into him.

He was grinning down at her when she roughly swatted him in the chest.

“You should really train more if you’re really becoming so unaware of your surroundings,” he said condescendingly.

“Asshole,” she muttered with a slight smirk.

When they began walking she heard Sandor snort in distaste. She looked up at him and saw he was staring at Ryton.

“The fuck he want now?” he asked.

“A room to be alone with his maps,” she muttered.

Sandor huffed and held open the door for her. “And you gave it to him?” he asked incredulously.

In the dark hallway Arya clasped his fingers reassuringly before quickly letting them go so no one would see. “Otherwise he’d be sulking and on my ass everyday. It’s just easier to give him what he wants. Especially when it’s so minimal.”

Sandor snorted in response.

The majority of their lunch they ate in silence. Neither individual really had much to say and Arya was happy with the silence. When they were finished they sat drinking water, well, Arya was drinking water while Sandor sipped on ale.

The rest of the day went by smoothly. They made extra distance because the wind was in their favor, there was nothing that needed to be fixed or mended, and the Dornnishmen and the Northerners were finally getting along. When the sun began to set Arya called for the night shift to take over. Off to the bow of the ship she saw Ryton speaking with one of the Northerners very heatedly. She moved swiftly and discreetly to stand behind them, her figure hidden behind one of the rigs.

“Don’t you think it odd that a woman is leading us?” she heard Ryton squawk. “I doubt she’s even been on a ship, let alone Captain one!”

“She’s a Stark. If the King has faith in her than I do too.”

“I can Captain this ship much better than she can. Wouldn’t you rather have a man with years of experience to find the lost islands?” she heard Ryton hiss in a whisper.

“I don’t give a shit who leads us as long as we find something.”

She heard Ryton snort with disgust. “Doesn’t it bother you that a woman is leading us at all?”

“No,” answered the guard immediately.

“I have plans to fix this. Plans that will make her go away,” said Ryton. “But these plans are going to need other men. We can Captain this ship the way it is supposed to be. If you just –”

“–leave your little plans in that little head of yours. Your job is to Navigate. Leave the planning to Stark and Clegane,” the Northerner snapped while walking away.

When she heard Ryton stomp away she glared at his back.

She decided it best that she didn’t tell Sandor just yet. She didn’t want him killing her best Navigator based on a suspicion. She needed hard evidence before she accused him of anything.

She sighed and went in search of Sandor before he came in search of her.


	5. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little shorter. Just wanted a quick badass moment! 
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos and comments guys! It's great to be back with this couple!

A few weeks later Sandor was down in the brig fixing some of the bars that had rusted and come loose. His bad leg was screaming in pain as he knelt down to wiggle the door only to find it swayed like a reed in the wind. He groaned in annoyance.

“Why the fuck wasn’t this fixed _before_ we fucking left,” Sandor muttered out loud.

For the past three or so weeks they were supposedly getting closer to these lost islands the navigator was always jabbering on about. Sandor had no idea if he believed Ryton or not. He just wanted to get somewhere safely. Even if that meant back in Kings Landing.

He grabbed a hammer and swung it against the bars and lifted it as hard as he could to lift the door completely off its hinges and let it clatter to the floor. He knelt back down and saw that one of the bolts had rusted and therefore bent and became loose. He replaced the bolts and moved to put the door back on.

The only reason he knew what he was doing was because of the amount of time he spent in King’s Landing gallows. Sandor gutted his first man in combat when he was twelve years old as a young soldier during Robert's Rebellion. After that he spent many years working in the prison until he was spotted by Robert himself and brought to be Kings Guard. Although he hated the Lannisters as well as pretty much all royalty, he knew he was set for life. He also knew it would mean he could point his hate and anger towards something useful rather than getting into street fights. When he finally left Joffrey and found Arya, he had a new purpose, to protect her at all costs.

God’s she was young then. He couldn’t believe when he came back to Winterfell how much older she looked, and more deadly. She was easily the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen when she was cutting down all those weights. He grinned when he remembered her following him out of Winterfell to kill Cersei. She told him later that she had no idea that she already loved him then. It wasn’t until he asked her to kiss him that she realized it.

He suddenly heard someone walk down the stairs into the brig. It sounded like the person was light, not a heavy man, but definitely heavier than Arya. He recognized her footsteps from a mile away.

He peered through the prison cell and recognized the boots as people of the Iron Islands. They always wore strange looking leathers on their feet to reduce the amount of water that got into their boots. It made complete sense considering they were on ships for years at a time. But Sandor still thought the boots looked ludicrous and girlish. He also thought it was cunty to embroider their crest into the Achilles Heel of the boot, as if it was something to be proud of.

Ryton stopped in front of Sandor and just barely caught himself from bowing. “Uh… Clegane,” he said, clearly uncomfortable with the informalities. “May a have a moment of your time?”

Sandor crouched before the fallen door and took out a rag to begin cleaning the rust out of the holes for the bolts.

“What you want?” Sandor grumbled. He wasn’t over what Arya had told him about Ryton’s disgust towards her.

“Lady– er… I mean the Captain is busy at the moment and told me to come to you with my request,” he said with his hands clasp behind his back.

Sandor regarded the man for a moment before he stood. He didn’t like that this idiot was even speaking to him, but if Arya commanded it he would do it.

Sandor walked over to Ryton and folded his arms across his chest. The top of Ryton’s head barely reached the top of Sandor’s chest so he had to crane his neck to look up at him.

Sandor was used to being looked at like a like a monster. But he did not like that his woman was being looked at that way too. He knew he didn’t like this man, but the minute Arya told him what she did he decided he hated him.

“We have some problems,” Ryton started. “The route we are going is headed for unchartered waters. Beyond that I have good reason to believe there are a set of islands made originally from volcanoes that erupted many years ago.”

Sandor waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t he leaned against the bars and huffed. “Spit it out, I don’t have all fucking day,” he barked.

It made Sandor grin that it looked like Ryton wanted to snap. But alas he held his calm with a deep inhale and exhale.

“The unchartered waters could pose a threat. It is said there are rocks beneath the surface of the waves that guard the islands. It’s said the rocks are as sharp and as strong as a snake’s teeth,” he said.

Sandor rolled his eyes at the man’s stupidity. “Then we sail around them, obviously.”

He saw Ryton’s hands fall from his back and to his sides, his fists balled in irritation.

“I have _already_ planned for that, however if they surround the entire island than that is a separate issue.” 

Sandor shoved himself off the gate and towered over the skinny man. “ _If_ you are even correct, which I doubt because it sounds like a bunch of horeshite, than we set anchor and use the boats to go between the rocks.”

“Then we will have to make two trips! One for our weapons and one for our food and shelter,” Ryton argued.

“Then so be it,” Sandor shrugged nonchalantly.

Ryton took a deep breath and Sandor actually chuckled at the fact he was trying to hold off a tantrum. It was clear he hadn’t been told what to do on a ship before and it was driving him mad.

“I would _implore_ you, _Ser_ ,” he said through gritted teeth. “That it would be unwise to make two trips. We could be on that beach with half the men we have only to be vulnerable to attack.”

“Any man worth his salt should be able to defend himself from a bunch of island-born savages with pointy sticks,” Sandor spat irately. He was getting sick of talking to this little shit and he wanted him out of his sight before he did something Arya would yell at him for.

“We have swords and cannons if necessary. I seriously doubt that we will all be killed off by a bunch of barbarians who have never seen a ship, let alone another man or woman,” Sandor finished.

Ryton sighed and Sandor could see defeat in his eyes. Arya may have been known for her temper and stubbornness, but Sandor’s trumped hers tenfold.

When Ryton turned to leave Sandor glared into the back of his head before he spoke.

“How long have you been a lead Navigator?” Sandor asked.

Ryton turned suddenly and looked surprised by the question but answered it anyway. “I always doubled as Second in Command and Lead Navigator in the Iron Islands,” he said distrustfully.

Sandor took a slow step towards him. “On the ships for House of Blacktyde if I am not mistaken?”

Ryton backed away one step before answering. “Aye… how did you know that?”

Sandor took another step forward. “I also know that Blacktyde refused a woman as Captain, said something about them being to moody to Captain a ship. I also know that you sent in your application and were denied because of somewhat treasonous behavior in previous years.”

Sandor saw the backs of Ryton’s legs hit the ladder leading up to the living deck, his eyes wide as saucers.

“All consequences of my youth. Surely you can understand,” he assured Sandor with a shaky laugh.

After a moment of silence Ryton’s eyes narrowed angrily. “How do you know all this?”

Sandor chuckled darkly. “The men talk, all rumors of course. But rumors you just confirmed none the less.”

Sandor was pleased when he saw the complete look of shock and fright coming from Ryton’s face. He was not about to let this little shit try and tear him away from his woman. He would tear him limb from limb before he let that happen.

Ryton’s fear turned to anger in a matter of seconds and glared at Sandor for three heartbeats before he answered.

“Will that be all, _Ser_?” he ground out between his teeth.

Sandor grinned down at the man a clapped him on the shoulder as hard as he could, intentionally trying to hurt him. “Yes, by all means. Why don’t you go see to it that the Captain and I get out lunch in our room? I know she must be famished and she’ll want to hear of all my concerns moving forward. In _our_ room.”

Ryton turned in furious rage was halfway up the stairs before Sandor stopped him.

“Oh, and Ryton?” Sandor called up the stairs.

Ryton stopped but did not turn around.

“You try and pin my woman against me again and I’ll make her a necklace out of your eyes,” Sandor said dangerously.

Sandor smiled when he saw Ryton grip the railing tightly before he stomped up the stairs loudly. He then turned and walked back to the brig he was fixing, completely happy that this threat was smothered for the time being.


	6. Arya

That night after dinner Arya sat straddling Sandor’s lower back while she massaged his weary muscles. This was not unusual for them as it made Arya happy that she could provide him with relief for his sore back. Sandor lay beneath her with no shirt while she had stripped down to a bare sark and breeches.

“You’re shoulders are always the worst,” she muttered when he groaned for the third time. “Maybe if you weren’t such a grumpy shit you could relax during the day so you’re not so tense.”

Sandor harrumphed but offered no other response.

She leaned down and dug her elbow into his left shoulder blade and heard him grunt beneath her.

“Fuck sakes, that feels good,” he said a little breathlessly.

Arya smiled and did the same movement on his other shoulder. She continued for a few more minutes before finishing her work with a soft kiss to the back of his thick neck. She rolled off his back and sat leaning against their headboard. Sandor shifted so he was lying on his side with his head propped up by his elbow, with his other hand resting on her thigh.

“I threatened the Navigator today,” he mumbled looking up at her.

Arya sighed heavily. She didn’t want him to get all bent out of shape over the man’s idle threats, but she also didn’t want him thinking he could tear them apart. She bit her lip when she thought of what Ryton was actually planning. Although she didn’t know all the details she did know that he wanted her dead. If Sandor found out about that she knew he would be livid.

“What did you tell him?” she asked while folding her arms over her chest.

“I told him I’d kill him if he tried pinning you against me again,” he said drawing patterns across her leg.

Arya just nodded in response. In all honesty she thought the threat was mild enough. She was more worried Sandor would loose his temper and beat the man to a bloody pulp.

Sandor lifted himself to a sitting position and scooted backwards until he was at her feet. He grabbed both her ankles and put them on his lap and began massaging the ball of her left foot, his giant hands almost swallowing it completely.

Arya closed her eyes and reveled in the pleasure he was inflicting on her. She seemed to constantly be on her feet and the way he was touching her made her eyes roll back into her head. She liked that he always seemed to know exactly what she needed.

When he was satisfied with the left foot he kissed her toes before he moved to the right one.

“Mmm…. I should make you do this for me every night,” she hummed.

Sandor chuckled and just continued his ministrations.

She didn’t know how long they sat there for, maybe an hour or so, but when he finally finished she opened her eyes and saw him staring at her predatorily. She knew that look anywhere.

“You need something?” she asked raising a thick brow.

Sandor chuckled and grabbed her ankles playfully and yanked them apart, spreading her legs wide open. He then wrenched her forward, causing her to slide down the headboard and into a laying position for him to crawl on top of her. Then he started biting her ear and sucking on her lobe that made her smile. Arya let her hands roam the massive expanse of his back before pulling his lips to her own for a deep kiss.

She always liked how he was constantly craving her touch. It was like he was deprived of it all his life and he was making up for it now. Arya was happy to let him touch her as much as he liked. She admitted to herself long ago that she felt thoroughly loved by him and that made her happy. It did annoy her that his entire life was filled with pain and suffering. She hoped that with enough of her love and attention, that he would be happy with his life again.

She let her tongue slip into his mouth and they danced together in a beautiful battle. She let him take charge for a moment and then began sucking on his bottom lip making him groan. She felt one of his hands wrap around her knee and yank it upwards so it hitched around his hip. Arya took it upon herself to firmly wrap both her legs around his waist and hook her ankles together so there was no space between their bodies.

Sandor ground his hips into hers and she could feel his growing erection. She could also feel her breeches becoming uncomfortably wet near her core. She pushed him roughly to roll over, and when he didn’t obey she bit him on the lip roughly.

“Crazy bitch,” he growled making her grin.

When she pushed him again and he still didn’t relent she grabbed him by the face and ripped him away from her neck.

“I want to be on top,” she growled at him.

He glared at her dangerously but with a grunt he rolled them over so she was straddling his hips.

He almost never said no to her.

He sat up and let his hands roam under her sark. When he reached her bindings she could tell he was annoyed so she shucked them off along with her sark in one rough pull of the fabic.

Although Sandor had seen her naked countless times, he always seemed to let his eyes rake over her body like it was the first time he’d seen it, just as he was doing now. She remembered a time when his stare made her self-concious, but now it just made her feel powerful. Here was a beast of a man who was completely mesmerized with her and she barely even touched him yet.

She moaned when his hands cupped her tits and moaned again, even louder, when his lips wrapped around a nipple and began to suckle and nibble. Her hands raked down his back and she tilted her head to the ceiling fully drowning in the pleasure he was inflicting. He continued this on both her breasts until she was moaning and writhing in his arms.

He finally straightened out so he was eye level and she gave him a bruising kiss before she looked into his brown eyes deeply.

“Pants,” was all she said while hopping off his lap.

When they were both completely naked she quickly climbed back on top of him and bit him a little too roughly on the jaw.

“You bite me like that again and I’ll bite you back,” he warned with his hands flexing on her ass.

Arya smiled coyly against his skin. “You promise?” she asked in mock innocence.

She heard Sandor growl and then grab her hair by the fistful and wrench her backwards so he could be in control.

“Ride me,” he panted.

Arya licked her lips at the way he was staring at her. “You don’t want to play with me a little more?”

Sandor shook his head and moved his hands to knead her tits. “Anymore playing and I’ll come all over the bed and both our nights will be ruined.”

Arya nodded and sat up on her knees to position herself appropriately. When she gripped his cock she heard him swear under his breath and then plunged it deep inside her. They both moaned in unison and she rolled her hips in a figure eight motion.

“Fuckin’ hells, Arya,” he moaned.

“Shit, Sandor,” she whimpered in response.

She started to move up and down his shaft slowly. She never knew pleasure like she did when she was with him like this. Even though they’ve fucked countless times, it was always amazing to her.

She felt his hands all over her and she still couldn’t get enough. When he cupped her breasts and began licking at them again she breathed his name to the Gods. Even though she was bouncing up and down he still managed to kiss her deeply and lovingly. She gripped his shoulders and dug her nails in just so the marks would be left behind in the morning.

She tore away from the kiss so she could breath, which prompted him to let his hands slide down to her ass and propel her down his cock more roughly.

“You like riding my cock?” he asked against her neck.

Arya swallowed thickly before she could answer. “Yes, it feels _so_ _good_ , my love.”

Sandor’s palm came crashing down on her buttocks making a loud crack echo in the room. Arya moaned and her head dropped to his neck to suck on his pulse.

He knew she sometimes liked it when he spanked her. She had no idea why, saying it out loud was almost embarrassing, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she knew he liked spanking her because every time he did it he would groan or pant like a dog just as he was doing now.

His hand came down again and smacked the other cheek making Arya cry out his name. At this point she didn’t care if anyone else heard her. She was getting fucked so well she never wanted it to end.

“You close yet?” he breathed against her neck.

Arya shook her head, which prompted him to begin rubbing slow circles on the bundle of nerves between her legs while she rode him.

“N-No, Sandor,” she said trying to pull his hand away and slowing her movements. “I want to go for longer, I don’t want to come yet.”

Sandor gripped her wrist in warning and looked her dangerously in the eye. “I’m not going to last long enough. Be happy with what you get from me. Not all men can fuck for hours at a time every night like you want,” he growled.

Arya whimpered when his hands gripped her hips and began speeding up her riding. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried out when the first wave of her climax hit her like a sack of bricks. Her entire body writhed and shuddered around him. She vision blurred and she was gasping for breath. She heard him grunt and wrap his arms around her waist and felt his seed spill inside of her at the same time. She continued to rock up and down his shaft until they were both spent.

She sagged against his chest with her cheek resting on his shoulder and he doing the same. She let her hands rub his sweaty back and kissed him gently on the neck. She felt one of his hands on the back of her head stroking her hair, while the other was placed firmly between her shoulder blades.

When he lifted her off his cock and laid her down she thought they were going to simply cuddle in bed until they fell asleep as they always did. But she was shocked when he wiggled down her body and spread her shaking legs apart, his head right in line with her wet core.

“What are you doing?” she gasped sitting up on her elbows. She was still breathing hard from the previous climax and didn’t know if she was ready for another go.

“My wolf-bitch is especially horny tonight,” he murmured against the inside of her thigh. “Can’t let you go to bed still wanting to be fucked again.”

Arya gasped when she felt his tongue make contact with her slick folds. She knew this time she wouldn’t last long at all. She knew that because her bits were still so sensitive from her climax only moments ago she would come quickly.

“I can taste my seed on you, girl,” he growled. “I have to say it pleases me that I can taste myself on you.”

Then suddenly without warning, he shoved two fingers inside her.

“Fucking hells, Sandor!” she shrieked.

Without pretense needed his mouth swooped down to her core and began sucking relentlessly. It was clear he knew that since she was already warmed up, that this wouldn’t take any time at all.

He was sucking on her folds while his fingers went in and out of her at a speed she didn’t think possible. When he moved his mouth away from her, his thumb took its place and started rubbing rough circles. His fingers never faltered though, they just kept their quick rhythm while he watched her come undone.

When he curled his fingers Arya was taken aback that suddenly her second orgasm hit her out of nowhere. This time she cried out his name loudly and her back arched to the heavens. His arm slid over her belly like an iron bar to keep her still as he fucked her with his fingers. It was like every nerve in her body was on fire and there was no water in sight. She clutched the sheets as tightly as she could and tried to get her wits about her.

He continued to relentlessly suck on her nub and thrust his fingers in and out of her until she was completely exhausted of anything else she had to give. When he saw that she was clearly done he sat back on his knees and grinned down at her. He slowly crawled back up her body and pulled her to lie on top of him and waited for her to calm down a little before he spoke.

“You get louder and louder each time I fuck you,” he said, clearly proud of himself.

Arya snorted at him before responding. “You… just like… watching me… come…” she said in between her gasping. “It’s… like a… game… to… you…”

She felt Sandor chuckle darkly before he pressed his lips to her hair. “Aye, one of the most fun games out there. Next time I’ll try and get you to scream and claw out my back again like you did when we first started going at it.”

Arya rolled her eyes but didn’t answer. She was too bust trying to catch her breath to do so.

They laid there for a few minutes before she spoke again.

“Is it always like this?” she asked still a little breathless.

“What you mean?” he asked.

Arya cleared her throat a little before speaking. “How often do regular couples fuck?”

“Don’t know, I’ve never had anyone for more than a night,” Sandor shrugged.

“Surely the other men talk? I mean, we fuck all the time, sometimes twice a day. Is that normal?” she asked looked up at him.

Sandor sighed heavily and brought his hand up to stroke her hair. “New couples always start off fucking a lot. And then usually they stop doing it as much after some time.”

Arya contemplated that for a moment before she spoke again. “But do you think they fuck as much as we do?” she asked.

“Seven Hells, girl!” Sandor grunted. “Why are you asking me all these questions? I don’t know. I just know that I like fucking you whenever I can get the chance.”

Arya placed her cheek back down on her chest and began drawing invisible patterns into his chest hair. “I think we make love too much, it’s not normal.”

Sandor burst out laughing and rubbed her back. “Girl, you really are a crazy bitch if you think I’m going to stop fucking you because it doesn’t seem ‘normal.’” He adjusted himself so he could throw a sheet over both their bodies quickly while speaking. “Besides, you’re the one that asked me to fuck you longer. I just gave you what you wanted.”

Arya winced embarrassingly. She decided to voice what was actually bothering her for the last few weeks, but never had the courage to voice it.

“I think I might be a whore for the amount of times I want to do it,” she mumbled quietly.

She felt Sandor freeze beneath her for a moment and then grabbed her chin to yank it upwards to look at him. She knew her ears were red and she tried to look anywhere but his face.

“Don’t say that,” he snarled. “Don’t ever say that shit to me again. You are not a whore. You’re a woman in love. There’s a big difference. Yes, we fuck a lot but like I said, it will slow down in the next few months.” He sighed heavily and she could tell he was trying to control his temper.

“Yes but other women–”

“–I don’t give a shit about other women!” he interrupted. “They’re all lying to pretend to keep some type of propriety within their House. They’re all constantly fucking when they are newlyweds. Believe me. I had to stand outside the door of Cersei and Robert Baratheon when they were married and they fucked like rabbits for months. And they didn’t even like each other! So I don’t want to hear you say that shite ever again.”

When she didn’t answer he gripped her chin more roughly.

“You’re young. All men and women your age want to fuck like rabbits, it’s just the way we’re built. And fucking your man is nothing to be embarrassed about. It wouldn’t be any different if we were married, I’d still want you like I do now. It would just be more socially acceptable,” he finished.

Arya took a deep breath. She had no idea this was bothering her as much it did until he started voicing all the things she subconsciously thought. She already felt much better and was grateful for it.

“Aye?” he said glaring at her.

Arya simply nodded and he let her go with a swift kiss. When she turned to lay her cheek back on his chest she felt tears well in her eyes. Not tears of sadness, but tears of happiness. She was great for him and loved him now more than ever.

“Besides it takes two to fuck so if you’re a whore that means I’m too,” he muttered.

Despite herself Arya burst out laughing and after a minute he joined in as well.

Arya thought of her sister. When she was newlywed she had a horrible experience, both times. Arya thought herself lucky when Sandor had proposed they be a couple. He was everything she could ever want in a man plus more. He never beat her; never hurt her intentionally, when he yelled at her it was for a completely valid reason. He was always putting her needs before his own and never lied to her. He even tried to get along with her siblings even though she knew he didn’t like any of them really. She didn’t know how she ended up with someone so perfect.

She felt bad for lying to him about Ryton. It had been weeks since she overheard him speaking with that Northerner and she hadn’t heard him plot anything yet, even though she was sneakily following him around to get a sense of what he was planning.The only thing she heard from him was whining that the ship was being captained poorly and how he could do a better job. Besides that she heard no whispers of treason… yet.

She sighed and looked up at her lover. His eyes were closed but he wasn’t sleeping. He had a small smile playing on his chapped lips.

 _He’s happy and a peace right now. Are you sure you want to jeopardize that just because you’re keeping a small little white lie?_ She thought.

Arya sighed and looked up at him. Dreading the conversation she was about to have.

“I have to tell you something,” she muttered.


	7. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love thinking about a domestic spat between these two... i always wondered what it would be like to be married or coupled with a man like the Hound. So i came up with something like this. 
> 
> Let me know what you think and thanks again for all the reads and comments! 
> 
> .....

Sandor looked down at a vey guilty looking Arya. She was biting her lip and avoiding his gaze. He knew it must be something major so he sat up with her perched on his lap and waited for her to speak.

He was annoyed when she quickly pulled the sheet up to her chest to cover her nakedness. He thought she was done being modest of her body in front of him. He certainly wasn’t shy. He could walk around all day stark naked in front of her and it would bother him none. He wanted to tug the sheet down so he could admire those perfect breasts he had in his mouth moments ago.

He sighed when he saw her look of apprehension with her eyes darting anywhere but his face. Finally he grunted and reached over the bed and found the dirty sark he wore that day and handed it to her. She put it on immediately and scooted to the left to sit in front of him and off his lap. She then idly began playing with a loose thread on the blanket that covered their bed.

“Well?” Sandor snapped, annoyed that he was left in the dark about something. He was more annoyed that he was being robbed of her skin on his.

She looked up at him briefly before she went back to that blasted thread.

“I…uh… heard Ryton talking the other day,” she mumbled.

Sandor huffed in irritation and folded his arms across his chest. “And? What did Ryton have to say?”

Arya looked up at him guiltily before she answered. “He was talking with a Northerner and said that he can Captain a ship better than me. He said that he had plans to make me go away, but he never divulged what those plans were.”

Sandor clenched his jaw and he felt his fists tighten under his arms.

“But it’s fine!” she said quickly with her hands flying to rest on his forearms. “I’ve been following him around the last couple days and he hasn’t mentioned it again! So I think he was just talking for the sake of talking. As long as we just keep an eye on him we’re fine.”

“When did he say this?” Sandor asked through gritted teeth.

Arya winced and Sandor knew he wouldn’t like the answer.

“Just… a few days ago…” Arya said meekly. “A week, maybe more.”

Sandor snorted and ripped himself from away from her and then the bed. He quickly put on his trousers. He now knew why Arya was nervous to be naked in front of him for this. It was too much vulnerability for the inevitable fight they were about to have.

“Weeks!” he yelled while doing up the laces of his breeches. “Weeks! Fuck sakes, girl. And you’re only telling me this now? What the fuck is wrong with you? We could’ve been killed three times over in just a few days, let alone weeks! He’s probably got half the ship pinned against you!”

He was glaring down at her on the bed. She raised herself to her knees and looked like she was trying to calm down a wild animal, which only made him more furious. She was treating him like something inhuman, just like everyone else treated him.

“He hasn’t! I’ve been following him around and he’s barely spoken with anyone about me,” she said while raising her hands like one would do to soothe a spooked horse in a thunderstorm.

“Oh aye?” Sandor said sarcastically. “And what of when you and I are in here alone? Hmm? You think as soon as the moon comes out he stops his schemes?” Sandor threw his hands up in anger. “Stupid girl!” he barked.

He turned his back to her and stomped over to the table that once held all the maps. He braced his hands on the table and tried to muffle his temper. He knew yelling at her wasn’t going to solve any problems, but it felt good to do it. His anger was warranted for her being so reckless with her safety. And for what? To save the life of a man plotting to kill her only so she could finish her mission in a timely matter?

He heard her get up from the bed with the soft thump of her tiny feet hitting the floor. He turned back around and saw her standing on the other side of the bed with her hands on her hips. She looked equally as angry as Sandor felt.

“I knew you would overact,” she spat. “That’s what you always do. As soon as one minor thing happens you throw a temper tantrum like a fucking child. That’s why I didn’t tell you from the start. He hasn’t done anything yet, and as far as I’m concerned he won’t without talking to more men. Why can’t you just trust that I know when people are deceiving me?”

Sandor felt his nostrils flare and his blood boil. He wanted to hit something with how difficult she was being.

He took five long strides to come to her side of the bed and grip her shoulders. He then bent in half so he was nose to nose with her. Sandor always liked his fights up close and personal.

“So you chose to lie and deceive _me_ instead?” he threw back at her. “I knew you were a cold little bitch, but I didn’t think you a hypocrite as well. Always talking about how you hated the schemes in Winterfell, but all the while spinning your own little webs here as well. I think you’re just as bad as the rest of that lot.”

Arya glared at him with the malice of one hundred men. When she tried to rip herself away he just yanked her back by her arms. He refused to let her try and run away. They were going to finish this conversation and she _would not_ get the last word.

“And you are just as big of a animal as the rest of the men in Kings Landing!” she yelled while struggling in his arms. “This was not some masterful plan to overthrow a King, I just didn’t tell you one piece of information! This hardly warrants being compared to Cersei fucking Lannister!”

Sandor snorted and let her go. He turned his back to her walked to grab another sark from his drawers.

“Hey!” she screamed. “Hey! I am not done talking to you!”

Suddenly he felt something hard hit his back painfully and tumble to the floor. He grunted and stumbled forward from the blow. He turned and saw that she threw a book at him in her anger.

“Fucking savage woman!” he yelled. He jabbed his finger in her direction. “You’re the one who lied here, not me! So don’t you try and turn this shit around on me you fucking cunt!”

Arya glared at him furiously. She obviously was not expecting him to call her names, not that he was overly proud of it himself. She folded her arms across her chest, no doubt trying to figure out which torture technique she would use on him tonight. She was panting in anger and her face was bright red. He knew she was angry, but he was angrier.

While he was putting his shirt on he spoke to her evenly, making sure he didn’t raise his voice again. “Not once have I ever lied to you, even when you were a child. I always told you the truth of the world no matter how harsh or cruel it was. I just thought you would’ve given me that same courtesy.”

Arya was quiet for a moment and he knew he finally struck home with her. He wanted her to feel bad for lying to him. He was enraged that she thought she could keep something like the upkeep of her safety a secret. He thought that’s why they left, so they wouldn’t have to hold any more secrets.

He quickly stepped into his boots and made his way to the door.

He heard her skitter to stand behind him but still didn’t touch him. “Where are you going?” she asked quietly.

Sandor didn’t answer. He simply walked through the door and slammed it shut as hard as he could. Leaving her alone in their room.

He walked to the brig where he kept a 2 bottles of some of the finer wines than the one’s the crew had already packed. It was the Dornnish wine from the celebration after Arya killed the Knight King.

He remembered that night as being one of disappointment. He didn’t know it at the time, but he was waiting to see Arya during the celebration. He didn’t go to have a good time, he just wanted to see her face and know that she was truly safe and unharmed. He remembered when Gendry came looking for her and he had that look of a star-crossed lover in his eyes. He remembered that he wanted to throttle that boy when he spoke.

He made his way up to the bow of the boat where he knew none of the crewmen would be at his hour of the night. The last thing he needed when he was already seething was some dumb cunt trying to talk to him.

He sat down so his back was braced against the mast and he glared at the moon. He pulled the cork out of the wine with his teeth and spat it off to the side. He took a deep pull from the wine and leaned his head back against the wooden ship.

He wished the night were as cloudy and ugly as he felt. He didn’t like fighting with his little wolf but he knew it was a necessary fight to have. He hated that she thought she could keep things from him. He told her everything of importance, why couldn’t she? She was the one that was always yammering on about trust and loyalty; meanwhile she was putting a knife in his back.

At this very moment he wanted to put Ryton’s head on a spit. He didn’t like that he and Arya were fighting because of this irrelevant man. Actually, Ryton was getting just what he wanted in driving them apart. He probably planned this entire thing just so he could watch Arya refuse Sandor in her bed indefinitely.

And why shouldn’t she? She was so much better than Sandor and he knew it. She had endless resources and he had the clothes on his back. She had an entire family that would support her, he had no one to care for him. Of course he would fight to the death for her, he would lay his body over hot coals if she required it, but that was all he could give her. And now she even put that at risk by keeping him in the dark.

He thought back to a night they shared together in Kings Landing. Sandor remembered how perfect that it was. They took their supper in their room and drank all night. They sat in front of the fire while the rain was pouring outside. He remembered she was lying on her back and he on his side with his head propped on his hand. He remembered the smell of wine on her breath as he kissed her. He remembered her drunken giggles as his beard had tickled her neck. She was drunk, but so was he, and she playfully shoved him away and he just smothered her with more kissed to the neck. He thought of how beautiful she looked in the firelight, how her pale skin glowed and her eyes sparkled from the moonlight. He remembered he was only wearing his breeches and she was only wearning his sark. They hadn’t fucked yet, just heavy petting and soft kisses. And he was happy with just that. He didn’t need to feel her body every night, just being with her made him ecstatic. He remembered her opening all the windows so she could smell the fresh rain, even if it did leave large puddles on the floor. He didn’t care about the mess at the time; he just wanted to keep her happy. He loved her then and knew he loved her now, even if she was being a bitch.

Sandor kept drinking his wine quietly. He didn’t know how long he was there for, maybe an hour or two. He sighed when he went to drink more only to find he emptied the second bottle.

He realized when he stood he was drunk off his ass.

 _Good_ , he thought. _Now I can pass out before I have to hear her screeching again_.

He staggered back to their room and when he finally got the door open he slumped against it.

All the candles in the room were blown out leaving him in complete darkness. Arya was lying soundly in the bed with her back to where he would normally be sleeping.

He kicked off one boot roughly and swayed as he tried to get out of his shirt. When he proved unsuccessfully he thought, _fuck it_ , and stumbled to their bed and collapsed into the sheets with one leg hanging off the mattress. He realized he still had one boot on but couldn’t find the will to remove it when he was so comfortable.

“Ugh, what the fuck?” Arya whispered in only slight annoyance. She was laying with her back to him and he decided that he didn’t care if he woke her.

He felt Arya sit up and she touched his shoulder. He felt her lean in and then wrench herself backward. “Fucking Hells, Sandor,” she muttered. “You’re drunk as shit. How much wine did you get into?”

Sandor snorted and turned his head away from her childishly. He didn’t want to talk to her right now and he sure as shit didn’t need to explain himself to her.

He heard Arya sigh and the bed shift with her movements. He opened his eyes and saw that she was standing next to him and rolling him further into the bed so he didn’t fall out. He then felt her tiny hands at his foot, tugging his other boot off and throwing it towards the door.

“Come on,” she whispered while pulling on his hands. “Sit up, I’ll help you with your shirt.”

When Sandor didn’t move she sighed heavily and put her hands on her hips. “You always get too hot with your shirt on. You’ll be roasting in the morning plus fighting a hangover if you don’t take it off.”

Sandor harrumphed in defeat and (with a lot of help from her) he sat up. He begrudgingly let her lift the sark over his head. When he was about to collapse back down again her hand shifted to the back of his head and she was bringing a glass to his lips.

“Drink,” she commanded.

Sandor grimaced at the taste of water but knew it would help him in the long run. He didn’t understand why she was being nice to him after he yelled at her, but he admitted it felt nice to be cared for.

When he drank the last of the water he fell back into the mattress and rolled onto his belly. He heard her sigh and bring the blankets over his body and climb into bed with him.

Sandor fell asleep to the sound of Arya calling him a ‘stupid drunken shit.’


	8. Arya

Arya watched Sandor sleep. It was early morning, much earlier than what she was used to. She could hear that only a few men were awake not including the night crew.

She lifted her hand to stroke his hair but quickly stopped herself. She didn’t want to wake him when he was already so angry. When he came back to their room she was shocked. She honestly thought he would refuse to sleep in the same bed as her. But when she smelt his breath she knew he was completely drunk of his ass. She should’ve figured he would do that after a spat with her.

When he left the room last night she threw every book at the door that she could. Her first instinct was to trash the entire room. She wanted to throw his clothes into the sea and set their bed on fire. She hated him in that moment and thought about what it would be like to put a sword through his belly.

However after she had time to calm down she realized that she was indeed the one at fault here. Not him.

Arya sighed and thought about lying and then yelling at him. He didn’t deserve it. He deserved to be told the truth and she should’ve told him straight away. She knew she hurt him deeper than he would admit. For longer than Arya was alive he was treated like a second-class citizen and that’s exactly the way she treated him last night. Even in yelling at him like she did was so wrong.

She heard him beginning to stir and she froze. She had no idea what he would be like today after their intense argument yesterday. She figured it would be a good day if he didn’t try to leave the room angrily without speaking to her again.

Sandor groaned loudly and rubbed his fists into his eyes. Arya realized that he must be fighting a debilitating hangover and she quickly hopped out of bed to refill his water glass.

“Fucking hells,” she heard him mutter as he moved to sit up.

She refilled his glass for him and left the water skin on the bedside table as it was clear he would need it. She stood for a moment watching him drink before got back into bed with him.

She waited for him to be finished drinking and lay back down before she spoke.

“How do you feel?” she asked meekly.

“Like hammered shit,” he replied incoherently. He was lying on his belly with his face turned away from her. It was clear he was in pain from the alcohol but she wasn’t sure if he was still as furious as he was the previous night.

Arya leaned back against the headboard nervously. She wasn’t sure where to begin and if now was even a good time to bring up last night. She chided herself for being afraid of something as stupid as a conversation and just decided to get on with it.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you last night,” she mumbled staring at her hands in her lap. “And I’m sorry I lied to you about Ryton. I just didn’t want you to attack him before I had the chance to think it through.”

At first Sandor didn’t move, which terrified Arya. She didn’t know what his threshold for anger was just yet. She had never made him angry enough to find out if there was anything he’d leave her for. She actually felt tears pool in her eyes at the thought of him rejecting her love because she was so stupid.

He finally rolled over onto his side and rubbed his eyes again while yawning. He then gently fisted the hem of the sark she wore and tugged her down to lay next to him. She cautiously laid her head on his arm and watched as his hand came up and brushed the hair out of her eyes. She was lying much farther away from him then she normally would’ve, as she didn’t want to step too far out of his comfort zone. His massive hand rested on her cheek with his thumb caressing her cheekbone.

“I shouldn’t have compared you to Cersei,” he muttered. “And you’re not a cunt.”

Arya shrugged, she was being a cunt and she deserved to be yelled at. She experimentally put a hand on his chest. When he didn’t push her away she began rubbing his chest soothingly making him grunt and wiggle closer to her.

“I just need to know everything when it comes to your safety, Arya,” he said seriously. “Otherwise what the fuck are we even doing here?”

Arya nodded and looked up into his brown eyes. She could see the tenderness there so she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer so she was flush against his body. She buried her face in the warm fur on his jaw and closed her eyes. She felt Sandor’s arms enclose around her and crush her to his chest almost painfully. His face was nuzzled between her neck and shoulder and his hot breath was tickling her skin.

“You’re the only thing I give a shit about,” he mumbled against her neck. “If you had died because of this I would never forgive either of us.”

Arya nodded seriously and felt her relief flood over her like a wave. She was happy that he had cooled off and she was even happier that he was touching her again.

“You owe me supper in bed for throwing that fucking book at me though,” he teased against her neck. “My back is probably bruised from your savagery.”

Arya laughed once and leaned back in his arms so she could kiss him fully. She hummed into the kiss as she gently slipped her tongue into his mouth. The arm she was using as a pillow curled around her head to secure her to his lips. His other hand gripped her hip tightly. She was delighted when he rolled them over suddenly with him on top of her. He grunted when her thigh purposefully brushed against his crotch.

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” he mumbled against her jaw.

Arya nodded in agreement and waited for him to continue.

He sighed and pulled away from her neck so he could look her in the eye. “I want you to keep following him and if you hear _anything_ , and I mean _anything at all_ , you have to tell me,” he said seriously while cupping her cheek.

Arya nodded and let her hand sift through his unwashed hair. She knew she fucked up in not telling him. She also knew that she never wanted to make him feel like that ever again. She hated that she was the cause of his angst.

“I just didn’t want to worry you,” she mumbled while staring at the ceiling.

He sighed and nodded in understanding. “I know, sweetling. But you’ll only worry me more if you keep important shit like this from me,” he said while stroking his thumb up and down her cheek. 

“I know that now,” she sighed.

Sandor bumped his forehead against hers and gave her a final kiss on the cheek before pulling himself away. He swung his legs off the bed and groaned while kneading his temples.

Arya couldn’t help but grin at the fact that he was so hungover. She quickly climbed out of the bed and reached into the vanity to get the herb roots to soothe his headache.

Sandor accepted the roots with a grunt and washed it down with water. He pulled her in between his knees and rested his head on her belly while wrapping his arms around her waist. She delicately stroked his hair so not to cause him more pain. He yawned and stared up at her. Sometimes he would get like this after something big happened. He would look at her in the same way he was now like he wanted to say ‘I love you,’ but just couldn’t muster the courage.

She smiled at him and leaned down to give him a quick kiss on the forehead before moving her lips to his ear. “I know you love me,” she whispered while hugging his head.

Sandor’s arms tightened around her. “Thanks,” he mumbled, his words muffled in the cloth. She smiled at the fact that she was right that he was too embarrassed to tell her his feelings. Her smile widened when she realized they had begun to communicate through looks rather than words. She liked that.

They stood like that for a while until Sandor slowly peeled himself off her and stood, towering over her. She craned her neck to look up at him and he chuckled.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re about the same size as the Lannister dwarf, girl,” he said.

Arya scoffed in mock anger and swatted him on the chest. He snickered and snatched her wrist tightly. “It amazes me that you’re as good a fighter as you are. You can’t even reach my face to strike me.”

Arya grinned devilishly at him and put one foot behind his heels and the other to kick his knees out from underneath him. He grunted when she then shoved him so he went tumbling to the floor. What she didn’t expect was for her to hold onto her wrist and pull her down with him.

She laughed as she slammed against his chest in a pile of limbs on the floor.

“You are such a shit,” she said trying and failing to sound cross with him.

He suddenly rolled them both over so her arms and legs were pinned beneath his massive body. Arya felt her heart race when he grinned down at her possessively.

“I bet you can’t even break my hold on you,” he challenged.

She struggled in his grasp, trying to worm out from underneath him seemed next to impossible. “Get off me you big ape!” she said laughing.

He chuckled down at her and kissed her on the nose, which she tried to rip her head away from.

“You screech louder than those fucking dragons. You’re making my head even more sore than it already is,” he said still grinning.

Arya raised her head and kissed him hard on the mouth. She smiled when he jumped in surprise, which only prompted her to continue. When he accepted her tongue she felt his grip on her wrists falter and she managed to rip her hands out from his grip. She then swung her leg over his hip and rolled them so she was on top, now pinning _him_ down.

She gave him a wicked smile and held his wrists above his head. She knew he could easily break her hold on him and she was grateful he was letting her win. 

“You really are a barbaric little bitch aren’t you?” he chuckled.

“Just towards you,” she whispered before leaning down so she could kiss him again. When she finally let go of his wrists, his hands went her grasp her face and run his fingers through her hair.

They lay there for a few moments kissing and letting their hands roam over each other’s bodies. When she pulled away she saw his eyes were bright and his smile was warm. A part of her wanted to just stay locked in their room all day and she could really make up for being so horrible to him. But she knew she couldn’t ignore her duties.

She sighed and pulled away from the kiss eliciting a growl from him.

“We have to go, Sandor,” she said.

He grunted but began to sit up with her in his lap. She was well aware that she was wearing his sark with nothing underneath and his eyes were raking over her body hungrily. When his hands moved to tug at her shirt she slapped them away before getting up.

When they were dressed and ready to leave Sandor put his hand on the door above her.

“If he says anything you tell me, aye?”

Arya nodded quickly and he finally let her open the door to begin their day.


	9. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I thought this would be funny. Let me know what you think!
> 
> Thanks for all the lovely comments!

Sandor watched Arya as she ordered one of the men to bring the sheet up. He also saw Ryton standing directly behind her glaring holes into her back. He chuckled and continued to oversee the work some of the men were doing on his side of the boat.

Sandor was happy they made up from their fight. He wanted her to know that she couldn’t keep things from him like that and he was glad she finally saw his perspective. And although he was angry she kept something from him, he was quite warmed that her reasoning was because she didn’t want to worry him. He never had anyone even care if he died let alone his feelings. She was truly amazing.

His head snapped to Ryton and watched as he made his way down the steps to the living courters. Arya made eye contact with Sandor for a brief moment before she nodded and moved to follow him. She moved like a cat advancing its prey and he thought she looked gorgeous.

He heard from other soldiers that when they and their wives had finished a fight the fuck afterwards was incredible. It made him excited for what this evening would bring. Arya was always a wild heathen in bed so he wondered what else she could possibly surprise him with.

He remembered the first time she surprised him when she got down on her knees and sucked his cock. They were on their way to kill Cersei and his brother and it was only a few days after she accepted him as her partner. He remembered her devilish smirk as she slithered down to his feet in the early hours of the morning. When her mouth wrapped around the tip and her tongue jutted out he groaned almost embarrassingly loud. He remembered he only had to give her a little instruction, if any at all. He was delighted that she did it, but he was concerned where she learned such a thing and was good at it. He knew most _wives_ wouldn’t even do that for their husbands. When he asked her if she ever done that before she simply shook her head. He then asked where she learned it and she remembered seeing it in a brothel in her travels.

He decided that tonight he would ask her to do it again. She would usually ask what he wanted in bed and gave it to him. It was shocking that her skill was so great when she only had one other partner. However, she was also open to learning a thing or two in bed. One time she was riding him and he asked her to lean back so he could watch his cock go in and out of her and she did it. Another time he point-blank asked her if he could fuck her in the tub and she simply shrugged and began stripping down right in front of him.

He wondered how in the hell she could even want him after he called her a cunt last night. He knew he was angry but she didn’t deserve to be yelled at like he did. He decided next time he would do better. He thought himself pretty good a muffling his temper when he was with her. But last night he did an exceptionally terrible job.

He finished his day without lunch. Arya was off doing some other duties or slinking around after Ryton and he was left in charge of main deck. He was tired and sweaty from the day so he grabbed a pail full of sea water and made his way to their room. On his way he ordered one of the Northerners to bring him two plates of food in case Arya was also too busy to wait in line.

When he got to the room he filled the washing basin with water and went back outside to fill the pail a second time. The Northerner had left the food in the threshold of the door with forks sticking out of the salted pork.

“Need some help?” he heard Arya say behind him.

Sandor rumbled a yes and stepped over the food for Arya to take. He returned the pail to the basin and sauntered over to the table where Arya was already inhaling her food. He was pleased that she also had a bottle of the good Dornish wine from Winterfell.

“Where’d you get that?” he asked nodding to the bottle as he took his seat.

Arya glanced up briefly before turning back to her food. “Stole it in Kings Landing. There’s four more bottles hidden in the vanity if you want them. I know you’re picky with your wine.”

Sandor grinned and began devouring his food. He suddenly remembered she followed Ryton today and pointed his fork at her.

“You hear anything from Ryton?” he asked with his mouth full.

Arya nodded and took a sip of her wine. “He was asking some of the crewmen for odd tasks to be done. He was asking for the metallic bits we put on the toes of their boots, the herbs they keep for headaches and a bunch of other peculiar shit. I was going to read some of my books and find out what he’s up to.” 

Sandor thought about the items she mentioned. He had no idea what Ryton would need with all those pieces. He was a Navigator for fuck sake. He didn’t need anything besides quills and paper.

“Keep on him,” he said finally. “If he keeps this shit up I’ll interrogate him.”

He didn’t like that she had to be playing these ridiculous games of suspicions with her own men on her own boat. He wanted her to get away from that and it seemed as though it was following her from King’s Landing. He wanted to squash whatever made her unhappy and this cunt was one of those things.

Arya looked a little surprised and cocked her head. “You’ve done that before?” she asked.

“Huh? What?” Sandor said, unsure what she was talking about.

“You’ve interrogated people before?” she clarified.

Sandor shrugged. “Sometimes Cersei would force me to. I always hated it.”

“Why?”

Sandor took another large bite of food considering his answer. He didn’t like talking about Cersei with Arya because she was the one who ordered her father’s death, with Sandor just standing there letting it happen. Moreover, he was the one that guarded her for all those years, if he wasn’t there her father would be alive and well today.

“She made me torture them when they didn’t give her the answers she wanted,” he said finally. “With water and sometimes fire.”

“With fire?” Arya scoffed.

Sandor shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “I said I didn’t like it,” he mumbled.

Arya let it go and just continued eating. He could see she was evaluating his words carefully.

When he finished Arya pushed her leftovers at him and got up wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. When she passed him she squeezed his arm affectionately.

Sandor heard the sound of water sloshing around behind him and when he turned around his heart sped. Arya was standing with her back to him completely naked. She was washing herself with the water he brought for himself in the basin. Sandor shot up out of his seat and walked over to her in three strides. He wrapped his arms around her chest and yanked her backwards.

“Sandor!” Arya said in shock.

His mouth latched onto her neck and he began suckling at his favorite spot before he spoke. “You can’t expect me to ignore that you’re all wet and naked right in front of me.”

She laughed once and looked up at him under her long wet lashes. Her hair was washed and her face was still shining from the water she just rinsed herself with.

“I would expect you to give me a moments peace so I can wash myself,” she said. “Unless you prefer making love to a woman who smells like a stable?”

Sandor chuckled and pressed his cheek to her temple. “I would still want to fuck you if you were covered in horse shite,” he mumbled.

His hands slid up her slippery skin and he started to fondle her breasts. She leaned back into his chest and hummed gratefully. His mouth went back to her neck while his other hand slipped down to caress her folds. Her head tilted backwards and she let out a soft moan making his cock harden. He bit down on her neck and she moaned again making him chuckle. She suddenly jutted her ass back against his groin and put her hand overtop of his on her breast.

He grunted as he felt her round ass wiggle against him again. “Was going to ask you to suck my cock tonight,” he panted into her neck. “But now you’re wet enough for me fuck you good and proper.”

Arya swallowed thickly before she answered. “I still can if you want.”

Sandor smiled into her neck. “And what am I to do with you? Leave you like a bitch in heat for another man to find?”

“I can finish myself off,” she panted. “Or you can keep fingering me until I come.”

Sandor growled at hearing her speak un such filth. She was always so guarded with other people, but as soon as she was alone with him, that wall crumbled and he got to see the real Arya behind her many faces. He could tell she was being extra generous because she felt bad about their fight. Turns out the soldiers were right. The fuck after a spat between you and your woman was especially sweet.

“I want to watch you finish yourself off,” he decided while moving his fingers from her cunt. “And then you can lick my cock.”

Arya looked up at him questioningly with wide eyes.

“You would find that pleasurable?” she asked intriguingly. “Watching me finger myself instead of doing it yourself?”

Sandor chuckled and gripped her mound possessively before he answered.

“Aye, sometimes it’s more fun to watch the game rather than play it.”

Arya licked her lips and moved on shaky legs to the bed wordlessly. His cock was painfully hard now and bounced up and down when he took off his trousers. He made quick work of his tunic and sark and sat in a nearby chair and watched her on the bed. He almost came right there when he saw her lying on her back with her legs spread far apart leaving nothing to the imagination. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her finger was moving in vigorous circles around her bundle of nerves. She was moaning loudly without a care in the world who heard her.

He was also taking mental notes in his head for later. He wanted to be able to play her body like a fiddle and this was an exceptional lesson. He knew she wouldn’t last long as he had already worked her over pretty good. So he wasn’t surprised when she started to roll her hips as she started to come.

He started stroking his cock and watched as she cried out his name with her back arching up high. She was coming much more quickly than when he fucked her. Her whole body was writhing and shaking all over when she started to come down from her high, panting loudly. He also noted her orgasm was much shorter than normal. Normally she would come for a long time and sometimes he struggled to keep up with her. When she played with herself it was over and done with in a matter of seconds.

Sandor swore he never saw anything so sensual in his life. He had seen her come numerous times and he always thought she looked beautiful. However, this was the first time he saw her at this angle. He never got to see her from a distance and it was like watching two women go at it in a brothel. There was something so arousing about watching rather than participating.

When she was done she was left winded on the bed with her legs quivering. She removed her hand from her cunt and sucked on the fingers that were inside her moments ago. Sandor growled while watching her lick her juices off her fingers. That little hellion knew he found that arousing and he knew she was doing it to drive him crazy.

Arya struggled to sit up and when she finally managed she looked over him with dangerous eyes. Her face was completely flushed and her wet hair was messy. There were big red marks on her tits and legs from him grabbing at them.

“Get over here… _now_ ,” he commanded.

Arya slowly stood up from the bed and staggered to stand in between his legs. It was obvious she was struggling to stay steady, as she was still wobbly from her orgasm moments ago.

He stopped touching himself to grip the backs of her muscular thighs and pulled her close while her hands rested on his shoulders. He leaned down and licked the wetness running down her inner thigh from her climax moments ago. When he looked back up at her she was breathing hard with her nostrils flared.

“Get on your knees, sweetling,” he whispered.

Arya smirked down at him and tapped her toe behind her body. “And what if I say no?”

Sandor smirked back at her. “We both know you won’t say no. You like my cock in your mouth just as like much as I do. You’re a feral little creature who likes to keep her man happy.”

Arya grinned and held his eyes as she lowered herself down to his feet. She scooted herself closer and took the base of his shaft into her hand. “And are you happy?” she asked coyly.

Sandor nodded slowly while she licked the tip of his cock making him groan in pleasure. She ran her tongue in circles around the tip before she took him wholly into her mouth. He placed his hand on the back of her head and gently guided her. He tried his best not to push her head or buck his hips but it was growing difficult. He looked down and saw that her big grey eyes were staring up at him, never leaving his face.

He tipped his head back and moaned loudly. He wanted to ask her to slow down to prolong his pleasure but he couldn’t form any words.

Her other hand moved to massage his testicles gently, a lesson he was ecstatic that he taught her.

“Fuck sake, Arya,” he breathed.

She pulled her mouth off his cock and he groaned. He looked back down at her and saw she was smirking evilly again. “You want me to stop, ser?” she asked in fake innocence.

Sandor grunted and grabbed a fistful of hair and jerked her head back roughly. “Did I fucking tell you to stop?” he growled.

She shook her head still smiling seductively, clearly enjoying being a tease.

“Then get that smart mouth of yours around my cock again.”

And she did.

She was sucking him off for only a few moments before he could feel his orgasm creeping up on him.

“You’re gonna get a mouthful,” he warned.

But Arya just kept bobbing her head up and down his shaft without pause.

Right when he was about to feel the first wave of his climax he heard someone knocking on their door before letting themselves in completely. Sandor jumped up and actually shoved Arya off his cock. He then quickly chucked his sark in her direction to cover her nakedness. He turned around and saw one of the smaller soldiers looking back and forth between Arya sprawled on the floor, desperately trying to cover her bits, and Sandor trying to shield her body while also being completely naked as his name day.

“What the fuck!” Sandor boomed with his hands flying to help Arya cover herself.

“Ser! My Lady! My apologies! I thought both of you would still be at supper!” the sailor said covering his eyes. “Ryton said told me to come in here a look for something!”

“Get out!” Arya screamed. “And next time wait for someone to answer the door you fucking nit!”

The Northerner quickly scrambled to shut the door while keeping his hand over his eyes.

“Moron!” Sandor yelled when the door slammed shut.

He sat back down in his chair groaned to the ceiling. When he looked back down at Arya she was still clutching the shirt to her breasts and legs. She quickly sprang to her feet and walked behind him and he heard the door latch.

“You forgot to lock that blasted door didn’t you?” he growled.

“You forgot too!” she yelled.

“Aye! But I didn’t think I had to since you were the last one that walked through it!” he yelled back.

Arya sighed and moved to stand in front of him while still holding the shirt to her chest. She looked down at him and he saw her ears were red and she was biting her lip. He snorted and pulled her down to sit on his lap. Any sliver of his arousal was gone and he was infuriated that they were so suddenly interrupted. He was particularly mad that he was robbed of such a pleasurable experience.

“I can’t believe he saw me sucking you off. Now all the men will be gossiping about me,” she muttered while letting her face fall into her hands in embarrassment. 

Sandor chuckled and wrapped his arms around her. “He didn’t see anything. I covered you in time. I am irritated that he could’ve though. I don’t want anyone seeing what’s mine.”

Arya sighed and looked up at him seriously. “Do you think Ryton did it on purpose?” she asked.

Sandor considered it for a moment before speaking. “It’s possible,” he said. “I’m angrier that he thinks he can just send anyone into our room.”

Arya nodded and then suddenly her head snapped to look up at him as if she just remembered something. “Do you want me to continue?” she asked nodding downwards to his crotch.

Sandor huffed furiously. “No point now. My cock has already gone soft, and I’m too pissed off right now to think of anything else but wringing that little shit’s neck.”


	10. Arya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LETS. DO. IT.

In the morning Arya demanded that Ryton be brought to their cabin. She was sick of this idiot constantly being a nuisance and now he was impeding on her personal life. Sandor was of course in full agreement. He wanted the cut the young Navigator’s head off, but Arya convinced him otherwise.

Arya sat with Sandor on one side of the table after commanding one of the sailors to bring Ryton to their room. Arya sat with her hands folded on the table while Sandor had his arms crossed across his chest.

“This is fucking stupid,” Sandor grunted.

Arya smirked up at him. “Why’s that?”

“Because he should have his face kicked in. Not a slap on the wrist.”

Arya smiled and rubbed his arm to soothe him. “If he messes up again I’ll let you hit him.”

Sandor grunted and muttered under his breath.

When there was a knock on their door Sandor yelled for him to come in. Ryton walked in with his hands over his eyes and a smirk on his face.

“Ok, I’m coming in! You two lovebirds better be decent!” he called out with a snicker.

Neither Arya nor Sandor smiled.

“Sit!” Sandor boomed.

Ryton’s face fell when he realized that this was no laughing matter. He quickly scrambled to sit in the chair across from Arya and Sandor. When he looked up Arya could see he looked nervous.

 _Good_ , she thought angrily.

“Under what circumstances do you find it appropriate to order any of the men about? And into my cabin without my consent nonetheless,” Arya said evenly. “You are not in charge here. You hold absolutely no rank as to what my men are to be doing.”

“My Lady –”

“– I am not finished!” Arya yelled.

Ryton quickly sat back in his seat. She could see he was gripping the table with white knuckles and his eyes were darting in between Sandor and herself.

“Burney could have been patching the hole in the starboard side of the ship yesterday. But instead he was too busy running around being your errand boy. He told me that you said I commanded it. Is this true?”

“I can assure you I meant no harm in –”

“– Is. This. True?” Arya yelled again slamming her fists on the table.

Ryton swallowed audibly but finally nodded.

“So you lied,” she asked leaning back in her seat and folding her arms across her chest, identical to Sandor.

“My Lady, I just needed one item. Had I known that you and the Second Captain were… preoccupied, I would’ve told him otherwise.”

Sandor shot forward in his seat and placed his hands on the table. “You don’t get to _tell_ him anything, you fucking idiot. You are not a Captain. You are not even a Sargent. We should throw you overboard for even having the fucking balls to override her authority.”

Ryton clenched his jaw and glared at Sandor. When he looked back to Arya, she saw the pure abhorrence in his eyes. She could tell right at that moment that he hated her. Not that she cared; she wasn’t a Captain because she wanted to be liked.

“Yes, Ser. Duly noted,” he said between clenched teeth.

It did not go past Arya that he agreed to Sandor’s demands instead of her own.

“Ryton,” she barked. “Do you have a problem with a woman being your superior officer?” she asked point-blank. She was not one to mince words and refused to let this issue be hanging over their heads any longer.

Ryton’s eyes went wide as if he couldn’t believe she was brave enough to actually ask him that.

“Of course not, My Lady,” he said in fake sincerity.

Arya rolled her eyes opening at him. “If you didn’t have a problem then you would not be disrespecting me by calling me, _My Lady_. Ladies keep a man’s house and bare his babes. Since I do neither of these things I am confused as to why you continue call me that, even after I have told you countless times not to.”

Ryton shifted in his seat and looked like he was struggling to find the words to explain himself.

“The fucking Captain is speaking to you!” Sandor barked.

Ryton’s face began to turn red and he cleared his throat. “I apologize, Captain. It is purely out of habit in seeing a highborn woman and was not meant as a slight to you.”

Arya snorted and looked at Sandor who was seething in his seat. She could tell he wanted to attack the man and she needed to dissolve the situation before he couldn’t control his temper.

“I would tread carefully from now on, _Ryton_ ,” Arya sneered. “Consider this your first and _final_ warning.”

When he didn’t move Arya let her own temper slip ever so slightly.

“Now fuck off!” she yelled at him.

Ryton quickly jumped from his seat and sped to the door.

When the door slammed shut Arya had to take a deep breath to calm her anger down. She looked up at Sandor and saw that he was glaring at the door angrily.

“Thank-you for not taking over,” she said in regards to his silence while she was speaking.

Sandor snorted and gripped her thigh before he stood. “That cunt is going to be a problem in the future, sweetling. We should’ve killed him and be done with it.” He then outstretched his hand to help her up out of her seat.

She took his hand and brought it to her lips before standing. “You can kill him if he does anything again.”

Sandor harrumphed but otherwise didn’t argue.

As they made their way to the door Arya rubbed his back to settle him down. Their relationship was still relatively new and sometimes it was hard for her to figure out a way to calm his notorious temper. Usually rubbing his chest or back would work. Other times she would just fuck him to take his aggression away. But most times he would mutter to himself all day until he finally got over it.

Right before she moved to pull the door open Sandor snatched her hand away from the lever. He put his massive hand under her chin and yanked it upwards.

“You watch your back,” he said quietly. “He’ll be angry that a woman just spanked him and he may be out for you now.”

Arya nodded quietly and started rubbing his chest.

“I don’t know what I’d do if he hurt you,” he mumbled almost silently.

Arya gently pulled him down by the lapels of his coat and kissed him softly, for which he returned aggressively.

When they parted Arya patted his chest one last time before they began their day. Arya stepped onto the main deck while Sandor moved down below. Today was going to be a tough one because winds were not there and that meant they had to paddle with the massive oak oars that everyone hated. All the biggest and strongest men were instructed to be below and Sandor was no exception. The weaker men were instructed to stay on deck and man the sails.

Arya saw Burney off to the side looking dejected and pathetic. She knew because of his small size and height he was not one to be below deck. Burney was a little older than her and only a little taller than her. Which was exceedingly short for a man his age. She imagined he was also disappointed in himself because he was involved in the whole Ryton incident yesterday. She knew if anyone else had barged in on her and Sandor in such a intimate moment she would’ve slit their throat. But Burney was a kind boy who sought out adventure.

Burney reminded her of Hot Pie, someone who was sweet and not meant for this malicious world. She didn’t like that he was sad and she pitied him. She decided right then and there to give him a task.

When she made her way over to him she almost laughed at how red in the face he got. He was clearly more embarrassed than she was that he caught her sucking off the Second Captain.

“C-C-Captain,” he started.

She raised her hand to stop any more apologies that he was about to sputter out.

“No harm no foul,” she said. “Just next time wait for someone to open the door. It is to be expected that something would happen like that on ship this size.”

Burney nodded quickly and sputtered his thanks probably half a dozen times.

“I have a job for you, Burney. If you are willing of course,” she said interrupting his stuttering.

“A job?” he asked.

Arya nodded. “I need you to be my spy,” she said quietly.

She couldn’t help but smile at how his face lit up like a torch. It was obvious he was ecstatic over the prospect of receiving such a request.

“Yes, ma’am! That would lovely! Who are we spying on? And how am I to give you such information? I once read in a storybook that a man put his notes in a bottle and then leaves them on a string behind a ship and then at night his Captain would read them and –”

“– coming to my cabin and telling me in person will do,” she said interrupting him. She had to admit he was quite adorable in his eagerness. He was like a small child who just found out they were getting candy for dinner.

“I want to know if Ryton is developing anything without my consent. I heard him speaking the other day with another Northerner and I think he’s planning something. I am just not sure what yet,” she whispered to him.

Burney’s head was bobbing to her request. He was clearly excited about all this and that made her smile. She wanted the young lad to know he was appreciated even if he was small. People used to look at her the way they looked at him. She wanted him to be fearless even though he was as threatening as a kitten with a dagger.

When she finished her instructions he went running off to plan how he was going to befriend Ryton and get him to admit his secrets.

Arya smiled and ordered a sailor to pull the sheet. Even if there was the slightest chance of a light breeze she was going to take it to help her men push the ship forward. By around midday the men were exhausted and they had made it about half the distance of where she wanted to end for the day. She knew the men wouldn’t be able to keep rowing for they all looked like they were about to faint. Even Sandor looked completely ravaged.

“Alright,” Arya yelled so everyone could hear her. “Fuck it, we’re done for the day. Those of you who were rowing will eat first. You all may also take a bottle of wine for your strong efforts today.”

She tried not to smile when the tired and crabby looking men suddenly turned cheerful. If she knew anything about sailors, it was that they would do anything with the promise of riches, wine, or women.

Arya sat next to Sandor and refused to touch her food until the rowers had finished, despite Sandor’s mutterings.

When they were back in their room with the door latched they were lounging together in bed. Arya had already rubbed his weary back for which she could tell he was grateful. Now he lay on his back while Arya rubbed his feet. She never thought she would see the day when she would do such a thing, but she wanted to do it for him in thanks for following her orders.

Suddenly there was a frantic rapping at their door causing both their heads at the door.

“C-C-Captain! Captain!” she heard Burney’s voice. “C-Captain! We see land! Captain! There’s land! Land!”

Arya’s head snapped back to Sandor and after one heartbeat of stillness they both wrenched themselves out of their warm little cocoon of warmth and scrambled to the door.


	11. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know if you're like me you hate "original characters." But i feel this story is a little one sided so I added in Burney as reoccurring. I wanted a guy like Sam or Hot Pie as the tubby, but loveable sidekick. 
> 
> Anyways, again, thank you guys so much for being so wonderful about the sequel. You all are amazing and I can't wait to finish this puppy up! 
> 
> I have about 30ish chapters in total for this story and I hope i can keep it that low, but we will see. I don't want to create another drag-out like i did with Long Road Ahead. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! And have a great day!

Sandor followed Arya out their cabin. She sprinted to the bow of the ship and he struggled to keep up with her as his bad leg was screaming in pain.

When he finally caught up to her he looked out to the sea and saw a small dot that resembled something of land. He was so used to seeing water beyond the horizon it shocked him to his core. He honestly didn’t think they would find anything and here they were six months into their travel and they found land. Arya was right all along. And it made him exceedingly proud of her.

Arya’s face was just as bright as he thought it would be. She was smiling ear to ear and her eyes were sparkling in the setting sun. She was practically bouncing where she stood as she looked through the small telescope she snatched from one of the men. He saw her hands were slightly shaking and she was suppressing a giddy laugh.

Sandor couldn’t stop staring at her. He didn’t even give a shit about the land at this point. Just seeing her so happy was enough of a reward for him. He wanted to make her feel like this forever.

When she looked up at him he couldn’t help but smile back at her. She was euphoric. 

He was startled when she suddenly pounced on him like a jungle cat and wrapped her arms and legs around his neck and hips. Her lips slammed into his painfully and he could feel her overjoyed smile against his skin. He responded immediately and gripped the backs of her thighs and hauled her up higher so he could kiss her more comfortably.

Normally she would never permit such an open display of affection. But he figured her happiness trumped her list of rules in this instant and he couldn’t be happier.

They kissed like that for a few sweet moments before they parted. When they finally surfaced he saw her eyes were shinning with happy unshed tears. He bumped his forehead against her own and gently let her slide back down to her feet. He looked around and saw that some of the men were shocked by her behavior and some were just smirking at Sandor. He couldn’t help but grin cockily as he knew they wished they were in his shoes.

Sandor admired how beautiful she looked when she was so happy. He wished he could make her this happy all the time, because she truly was exquisite.

“Alright everyone!” Arya yelled to the men. She stood on one of the platforms of a mast so she was at least the same height as the majority of the men. “We are in the home stretch now. Get some rest and sleep well tonight. Tomorrow we will make headway to the lost islands. Remember this, you are all going to be written in history as the men who discovered the unknown lands. Mothers will tell your story to their babes at night, men will want to be you, and women will want to be with you. We have a long way to go, but we will make it back to Kings Landing so you all can reap your rewards. What say you?!”

“Aye!” the men yelled in unison.

Sandor’s chest swelled with pride when the men began chanting her name over and over again. He saw her nod once in appreciation for their praise and hopped off the platform. When she began walking back towards Sandor men were slapping her on the back in admiration and he saw a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

He grinned down at her and she rolled her eyes at him.

“I need you to do a maintenance check on everything on the ship. Take Burney with you, I know he’s been itching for something to do besides be my spy.”

Sandor gave her a curt nod and left her side obediently.

He was somewhat annoyed that this new development interrupted her affections. He was enjoying her hands massaging his sore muscles and was taken aback when that idiot started pounding on their door.

Sandor saw the fat little man that Arya identified as Burney. He was almost as small as Arya was, maybe a foot or two taller. He was older than her for sure. Maybe three and ten? Maybe more. Sandor wondered how such a small, tiny man was allowed on a ship this prestigious.

“Boy!” Sandor barked.

Burney turned and looked at Sandor in complete fear. He dropped the rope he was helping to tow and quickly skittered to stand in front of Sandor.

“Y-yes, ser?” he sputtered.

“I am not your ser,” Sandor muttered. “The Captain has requested you to assist me in a maintenance check on the ship.”

The young lad nodded quickly and followed Sandor to the lowest level of the ship.

Sandor could feel the boy walking at his heels. It was clear the boy was petrified and rushing to keep up with him. However, Sandor was impressed that the boy knew which areas of the ship that were most prone to breaking. Burney also knew the areas of the ship where he suggested pre-emptive strategies to be put forth to prevent future problems.

When they made it to the brig Sandor just watched from the doorway as Burney looked over the cells. Sandor knew he _just_ fixed the door so there was no way the young lad would find anything wrong with it. But alas, the boy pointed out that although the doors were fixed, any man whoever helped build a prison cell would know you could pry the door off it’s hinges with the bench provided.

“Very well,” Sandor muttered, a little put out that the boy found a flaw in his work. “We will take the bench out until we have a blacksmith available to fix it.”

The boy nodded obediently and walked over to lift the bench. He saw the boy was clearly struggling, as he was too weak to lift the bench on his own. Sandor quickly walked to lift the bench completely on his own and carry it out to place it under the steps.

“How in the fuck did you even end up on this ship?” Sandor muttered as he kicked the bench to slide further into the cavity. 

“I was recruited because I used to repair items for the Starks. Carriages, furniture, weapons, pretty much everything on the grounds,” he replied a little breathless.

“And why haven’t you brought this to the Captain’s attention sooner?” Sandor growled. “We could’ve used you to cut down time in finding out what was wrong with parts of the ship.”

“I… uh… didn’t want it to appear I was boasting to the Captain. She has… quite a reputation when it comes to matters that annoy her,” he said carefully.

Sandor whipped around and looked at the boy with confusion. “What the fuck are you saying? Spit it out, boy.”

“She frightens me. I was scared she would skin me alive for boasting about how good of a repairman I am,” he answered bluntly. 

Despite his annoyance Sandor chuckled at the boy’s comment. He found it amusing that people found his woman frightening. He supposed he would’ve too if she was so cold to him as she was to everyone else.

“And you think yourself that good of a repairman that it warrants boasting?” Sandor challenged.

The boy grinned cockily as he nodded his affirmation.

Sandor surprised himself by bursting out in laughter. He decided he liked this boy in spite of being weak and feeble minded. “You don’t need to worry about her hurting someone like you,” Sandor said while turning to make his way back up to the living courters. “She’s impressed with men whose minds make up for their lack of physical strengths.”

“But someone like Ryton should be worried?” the boy inquired.

Sandor stopped and turned to face him on the staircase. “What’s it to you?”

Burney shrugged and took a step down a stair fearfully. “I just… I just don’t know if the Captain is aware of how vocal he is about her leading style,” he said timidly. “He is constantly complaining about how horrible she it at her duty.”

“Arya is aware of this,” Sandor said flatly.

Burney nodded quickly. “Aye, I just don’t know how seriously she is taking it. I worry that Ryton may try and plan an assassination and then we would be fucked.”

Sandor contemplated what he was saying for a moment before he answered him. “Keep your ear to the ground. I am one cunt hair away from lopping that idiot’s head off. The Captain wont let me kill him until we have substantial evidence.”

Burney nodded again and they made their way up the steps.

“You really love her, don’t you?” Burney asked quietly after a few minutes of checking over the beams for rot or vermin infestation.

Sandor snorted in disgust. This boy was getting bolder by the minute and he hated it.

“Mind your tongue! I’m still second in command,” Sandor barked.

“I’m sorry. I… just see the way you look at her and how easily you follow her orders and it is obvious. I mean, she only ever looks at you as well,” he added. “I just never thought a man would be able to tame a woman like Arya Stark. She is known as being quite a good little killer and it seems difficult to keep control over her.”

Sandor felt his fists clench. He wanted to throttle the boy but knew his questions were innocent enough.

“A man does not need control over his woman. The men that do are weak little shits who can’t wield a sword on their own, so they make their women feel weaker than they are,” Sandor huffed and stood from his crouched position. “Now shut the fuck up and make your way to top deck. I want this shit done so I can get drunk in my room.”

After what seemed to be hours of meticulous scanning every nook and cranny of the ship, they were finally finished. Sandor was exhausted and needed food again. It was pitch black outside and the stars were twinkling brightly. The wind was warm enough, but he still wanted to sit inside the living courters so he could see what Arya was doing.

When he sat down with his second supper he saw Arya off to the far left sitting with Ryton. Sandor glared at the table in annoyance that she was spending time with him. He knew it was ridiculous that he was jealous that she was giving Ryton attention instead of him, but he didn’t care. He wanted her sitting next to him right now. It was like having termites eat at his nerves watching her converse with the very man that was plotting her demise.

Ryton leaned in and pointed to something on the map with his face inches away from Arya’s cheek.

Sandor clenched his fork with all the force he could muster. It took everything in his willpower not to stomp over to their table and throw Ryton to the floor. He was getting too close to her for Sandor’s comfort and he wished the man would drop dead where he sat.

He was interrupted from his killing fantasy when Burney plopped down in the seat opposite him.

“This seat taken?” he asked as he set down his tray of food.

“It is now,” Sandor muttered taking a steep swig of his ale.

Burney turned and looked at Ryton and Arya talking with one another closely. He turned back to Sandor with a half-smirk.

“You know you don’t have anything to worry about, right? I mean, any man would be stupid to try and court the Hound’s wife,” he said while shoveling a mound of food into his mouth.

“Not my wife,” Sandor muttered into his cup.

Burney raised a questioning brow while he chewed with his mouth wide open. “Really? Sure seems like you two are married. Never heard of a high-born sleeping in a man’s bed unless they’re married.”

Sandor snorted but offered no other response. He didn’t like that this man was suddenly so interested in his relationship with Arya. He knew there were endless amounts of speculation surrounding the two, but no one ever had the courage to voice it to him. He especially didn’t anticipate this little shit to do so.

“Mind your own fucking business, _boy_ ,” Sandor snapped. “The relationship between me and your Captain is none of your concern.”

Burney smirked into his ale. “Sure seems like it since you two keep me up all night with how loud you are…” he mumbled before taking a sip.

Sandor tried not to smirk as he ate. He knew they were loud but no one complained to him until now. He recalled a few weeks ago how he was worried Arya was being too loud. He was fucking her good and proper when she screamed his name in ecstasy. He was shocked but also thrilled by it. He wanted everyone to know how vocal he could make his woman wail. Now they all knew how happy he really kept her in between his sheets.

He watched Arya cautiously. When she stood, Ryton quickly scrambled to stand with her and rush to her side to remove her chair for her like any man would do with a lady. He grinned when he saw Arya snap at him for doing such a thing. She scanned the crowd in the eating area and when her eyes locked with his she gave a quick nod of her head and left Ryton standing there a little humiliated.

With that Sandor left the young lad and went in search of wine. He wanted to get drunk tonight in celebration of his woman’s accomplishments.


	12. Arya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of fluff for a fluffy day :)

“I saw you sitting with Burney at dinner tonight,” Arya mumbled against Sandor’s ribs.

Arya and Sandor were lying on the wooden floor as the bed was too hot with the southern winds. The warm night air was blowing through the open windows and the dark chamber was lit with candles that dotted throughout the room. They were laying off to the side of the bed trying to cool down their bodies. Sandor had brought some of the pillows off the bed so they wouldn’t be uncomfortable. Arya thought it a silly plan as she always slept with her head nestled on his chest or arm.

Sandor was lying on his back with several pillows propped under his head. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and she was just wearing a loose sark and breeches. She could tell he was blatantly staring down her shirt and she couldn’t help but snicker at his juvenile behavior. He had probably seen her tits one hundred times over; it wasn’t like this was a surprise for him. But sure enough ever time she bent over he would crane his neck to openly gawk at her chest.

Arya was leaning over his body and was placing gentle kisses all the scars that littered his chest and belly. Every time her lips made contact with his skin he hummed in appreciation of her affections. They were passing the wine back and forth for the last hour or two and were chatting happily.

Arya had never been in a more celebratory mood than she was now. She couldn’t believe they actually found something! She was over the moon and back when Burney started pounding on their door and telling them what they saw. Her entire body was electrified since then. She couldn’t keep still she was so giddy. When she saw the land ahead she couldn’t help but throw herself at Sandor with a squeal and kiss him in front of all the men.

She felt his hand run through her hair as she kissed a long scar that stretched over his left pectoral muscle. She learned long ago where all his scars came from, and this one in particular came from a man who was trying to attack Robert Baratheon. When Sandor pushed the King away, the sharp axe cut through his armor and sliced open his skin. Robert was annoyed that he was shoved to the ground and ordered Sandor to apologize for being so shit at his job.

“Sandor?” Arya asked looking up at him to see if he heard her. His eyes were closed, but she knew he wasn’t sleeping.

“Hmm? Oh, aye. He’s a good lad,” he muttered. “Even if he is weak.”

Arya sat up and took the bottle of wine from his hands. “I like him,” she said and took a long pull from the wine. “I think he’s a sweet man.”

Sandor snorted while she took another long sip of the wine. 

“He needs to learn how to fight proper. Otherwise he will never survive this world,” he muttered adjusting himself on the pillows.

Arya leaned down and gave him a long kiss before she answered. “You’re adorable when you care about another person,” she whispered against his lips.

Sandor grunted in disgust and ripped his head away from her. “Leave off, girl!” he grunted. “Don’t ever call me that shit again.”

Arya laughed again and took another drink of wine after pulling away from him.

He looked up at her clearly amused and began idly caressing her thigh.

“You trying to get drunk again, wolf-bitch?” he asked smirking and nodding to the almost emptied bottle of wine.

Arya knew she was drinking more than what she normally would’ve. The room was already spinning and she was having trouble keeping her words from slurring. But she was too happy about finding the lost islands to care.

Arya shrugged and took another drink before handing it back to him. “So what if I am?”

She handed him the wine and bent back down and laid her head on his chest. She suddenly jerked her body upwards to give him a quizzical look.

“What do you mean, ‘again?’”

Sandor chuckled and finished the rest of the bottle and set it down next to the vanity.

“Think, girl,” he said smirking up at her while running the backs of his knuckles along her jaw.

At first Arya just stared at him confusingly and then suddenly burst into a fit of laughter when she remembered what he was talking about.

The last time she got this drunk was when they were on their way to kill Cersei and Gregor. They were in a tavern in the middle of nowhere and it was not long before they decided to be together. It also happened to be the first night they kissed.

Sandor laughed with her and sat up and pulled her onto his lap.

“You were drunk as shit that night,” he said chuckling.

“So were you!”

“Aye, but I’m always drunk as shit.”

Arya laughed again and actually had to wipe the tears from her eyes at his ridiculousness. She saw he was grinning back at her happily.

“If memory recalls you actually wrapped your arm around me, shielding me from the cold, like a true gentleman,” she murmured teasingly while wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Perhaps, but I don’t think it wasn’t very ladylike to seduce me like you did,” he shot back grinning at her.

“I did not!” Arya scoffed at him.

He chuckled and began lightly nipping at her neck. “I was a gentleman in giving you the choice to be with me, was I not?”

Arya hummed in agreement, far too busy enjoying his attention to her neck to come up with some snarky retort.

“However, I don’t think it was very gentlemanly of me to fuck the shit out of you the next day,” he said quietly making Arya giggle drunkenly. 

She pulled her head back from him only to kiss him hard on his mouth. The kiss was sloppy and rough. When she pulled back she rested her forehead in his and looked into his brown eyes.

“Thank you,” she murmured while stroking his hair. “You didn’t have to come with me to the middle of no where, but you did.”

Sandor shut his eyes and placed his hand on the back of her head to press her closer to him.

“You’re mine,” he whispered. “I go where you go.”

Arya felt tears well up in her eyes and pressed a long kiss to his forehead. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head to her rest on her chest. She then kissed the top of his head and continued to hug his head to her chest lovingly.

They stayed like that for a few moments before he pulled back and looked at her and chuckled.

“You actually want to get drunk tonight?” he asked.

Arya nodded enthusiastically and he reached into the vanity and opened another bottle of wine.

“Are you not drunk at all yet?” she asked incredulously. 

Sandor laughed once and took a swig of wine before answering. “I am. But definitely not as drunk as you are right now, but I’m also three times the size of you.”

Arya rolled her eyes and stole the bottle from him took a swig herself. She then started nipping at his neck affectionately making him squeeze her thighs. When she started to grind her hips into his suggestively he groaned.

“Girl…” he grumbled. “Stop that shite. My cock isn’t going to work tonight.”

Arya pulled back from his neck and looked at him disappointingly. “Why?”

Sandor chuckled and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Sometimes I forget how young you are,” he muttered under his breath. He sighed heavily and gave her chaste kiss. “When a man starts drinking his cock doesn’t work anymore. Don’t ask me why, it just doesn’t.”

“Does it bother you that I’m so much younger than you?” she asked timidly.

Sandor was quiet for a moment as he rubbed her thigh and looked down. “Sometimes it does sometimes it doesn’t. I feel like a scumbag sometimes when I think of how I was basically your father for those years we traveled through the Riverlands. Then I remember you are a woman grown now. Robert Baratheon and Cersei were about the same ages as you and I when they wed so that makes me feel less of a shit.”

Arya nodded in understanding and gave him another kiss.

“Does it bother you?” he asked quietly.

Arya shook her head immediately and bumped her forehead against his.

“If you’re not going to fuck me then you better keep me entertained for the remainder of the night,” she demanded.

Sandor chuckled and took another swig of wine. “What did you have in mind, my Lady?”

“I want you to show me that move you used on Geordan when he tried to kill you in Kings Landing.”

Sandor looked at her inquisitively with a raised brow, clearly not understanding what she meant.

“You know,” she said while moving to stand. “It’s the one where you dropped him on all fours and you were behind him ready to slit his throat.”

Sandor stood with her and chuckled when she swayed where she stood. “You wont be able to learn from me. You’re too small and too drunk to learn it properly.” 

“Come _on_ ,” she whined while giving him a little shove. “I want to learn.”

He sighed and when he realized she wasn’t going to relent he gripped her shoulders tightly to steady her.

“Alright, wolf bitch,” he said smiling. “Attack me.”

She grinned at him and when she moved to punch him he dodged it easily and placed his foot behind her legs and pushed her shoulders forward. Arya was sent flying to the ground and groaned when her knees hit the wooden floor painfully. She quickly shot back up and saw Sandor grinning at her smugly.

“Told you,” he said.

“Again,” she demanded.

Sandor sent her flying to the ground three or four more times before Arya learned how to dodge such a move. When she did it to him he grunted as he hit the floor. What she wasn’t expecting was for him to wrap his arm around her waist and yank her body down to the ground on top of him.

She squealed and tried to get away from his grip but it was useless. She was slightly annoyed that he was right in saying that she was too drunk to actually inflict any type of pain on anyone at the moment.

When she was pinned beneath his body his eyes raked over her.

“Fuck, I wish I didn’t get this drunk,” he mumbled.

“Why?” Arya asked.

“Cause you look fucking gorgeous tonight and I want to fuck you.”

Arya rolled her eyes at him but he still didn’t release his grip. She was also a little embarrassed from the compliment. People always commented on Sansa’s beauty, no one ever called her beautiful.

“You want me to lick your cunt tonight?” he asked out of nowhere.

Arya laughed and shook her head. She didn’t want to be pleasured by him when she couldn’t return the favor; it somehow felt greedy and selfish.

“No, just kiss me till’ I fall asleep” she said.

Sandor rolled his eyes and muttered ‘fucking women’ before he leaned down kissed her fully on the mouth. Their tongues danced together lazily. Neither one of them in a hurry to stop.

When they finally resurfaced he rolled them over so her back was pressed against his chest and her head was pillowed on his arm. His other arm wrapped around her ribs and squeezed her closer his body. Arya lifted one of her arms behind her so she could rub the back of his head affectionately.

“I love you,” Arya mumbled quietly.

Sandor nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck with his beard scratching her skin.

She fell asleep listening to the Hound’s soft snores and his warm breath tickling her neck.


	13. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oooooh kaaayyyy. Sorry for the delay! Crazy amounts of work lately. 
> 
> Thanks for the read ya'll!

Sandor wobbled slightly as his foot made contact with the immobile stand on the beaches of the Lost Islands. He was so used to the gentle rocking of the ship that the unmoving ground was somewhat unsettling.

Arya also staggered a little when she jumped out of the boat. She shot him a look of warning when she moved passed him, obviously worried he would mock her in front of the men. Which he would never do, he would mock her in private so he could hear her smart mouth give him a witty retort.

The trees were taller than the great pines in Winterfell. He noticed the only branches on the trees were at the very top, leaving the forest looking open and bare. There were no birds but he did hear the rutting of a wild pig off in the distance. The sun was shinning brightly on the ocean waters and the salt in the air calmed his senses. He wished he had chewed more mint leaves this morning because he still felt queasy from his horrendous hangover he was still trying to battle.

This morning Arya was no better. She was groaning in pain and clutching her head. When he gave her the remedy for a hangover she grumbled under her breath but otherwise didn’t speak to him.

He saw Arya was evaluating the forest looking apprehensive and cautious.

“What say you, Captain?” Sandor asked.

He only ever called her that when other men were present. The last thing he wanted was to undermine her authority in front of them. He wanted her to be powerful. He preferred it that way.

Arya turned and looked at him cautiously. “Help the men with the artillery and let’s set camp before it gets dark. When we finish I don’t want anyone straying too far from the beaches.”

Sandor actually felt his eyebrows rise at her tone. She sounded like she was angry with him about something, but the had no idea what. When they woke this morning she was quiet and almost guarded. He thought it was just that her mind was full of her plans for today, but now he thought something else must be truly wrong. He decided now was not the best time to ask her why she was being a bitch. So he just nodded curtly and turned to do as he was told.

They spent the better part of the day unloading the small boats and setting up their tents. Half the men stood with their swords and bows facing the forest while the other half continued to unload. The last thing they needed was to finally arrive at their long-awaited destination only to be attacked by some savage tribe. It was obvious the men were excitable from finding the lands that were never touched by another soul.

It wasn’t until midday, with the majority of the work done, when Sandor finally saw Ryton emerge from the forest. He was holding a quill and paper and looked deep in thought. And while the other men were sweaty and panting with the exertion they put in for the day, Ryton looked fresh as a daisy. Sandor knew he did fuck all all day. As soon as their boats touched the sand he was off into the forest saying he’d be ‘right back.’

Sandor stomped over to the little man and shoved him to the ground.

“What did you do today you fuck?” Sandor roared down at the young Navigator. “Haven’t seen you all day and then you return after we’ve done all the work!”

Ryton glared up at him. “My job requirements do not include setting up a camp! I have more knowledge about these Islands than anyone else here,” Ryton yelled back while getting up and brushing the sand off his expensive coat. “Without me you all would be lost. I was merely doing a site check.”

“Your job requirements are to follow fucking orders,” Sandor boomed while shoving his finger in Ryton’s face. “Now I am ordering you to dig a privy for the men. And don’t even think about fucking passing it on to someone else!”

Ryton looked like he was about to come up with a retort when suddenly Sandor heard a quiet ‘ahem’ from behind him.

Sandor whipped around to see Arya standing calmly behind him staring at Ryton with a raised eyebrow.

 _Seven Hells, I need to ask her how she is so damn quiet all the time. I didn’t even hear her approach_ , Sandor thought.

“My La-Captain!” Ryton wailed. Catching himself before calling her a Lady, _again_. “The Second Captain is ordering me to do things that are better suited for a soldier. It is not in your best interests to tire me so. I have work to do in de-briefing you on what to expect from these lands.”

Sandor’s hands balled into fists.

“The only existing materials on the Lost Islands are the three books you mentioned last week correct?” Arya asked cocking her head to the side.

“Aye…” Ryton said uneasily.

Arya took a step forward to stand next to Sandor. “Then consider me de-briefed. I read those books already.”

Arya took another step forward and clasped her hands behind her back. “And the Second Captain is correct. Are you refusing to follow your superior officer’s orders?” she asked dangerously.

“I… I…. N-No…” he answered quietly.

“Good,” Arya quipped. “Then I’d better get digging before it gets dark.”

Ryton’s face fell and he looked back and forth between Arya and Sandor in disbelief. He scoffed and stormed passed the couple in and huff. Sandor chuckled when Ryton intentionally bumped his shoulder as he passed them.

Arya was watching him stomp away with a concerned look on her face. Sandor stared at her until she finally looked at him.

“What?” she snapped glowering at him.

Sandor raised an eyebrow at her questioningly. He understood she had a lot on her shoulders right now, and Ryton being a shit wasn’t helping matters. He figured that’s why she’d been snapping at everyone all day.

Sandor and Arya hadn’t fought that much since they got together. He always wondered if that was normal. When he was a child his drunken father would always talk about what a bitch his mother was before she died giving birth to Sandor. When he was Kings Guard he saw Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister getting into screaming matches almost daily. Up until he was finally with Arya, he thought that’s what relationships were, constant bickering and arguing over money and other trivial shit.

He looked around the camp and saw that all the men were too busy with their work to notice the two lovers small spat. Sandor took a watchful step towards her and when she didn’t move he took another so they were almost touching. He then folded his arms over his chest and waited for her to speak. She usually realized on her own when she was being irrational, sometimes he just had to have patience and wait for her to say it.

She glared daggers at him for about five heartbeats before she relented. She finally huffed in irritation and also folded her arms across her chest. Sandor had to admit he was happy she was glaring at the ground in defeat.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered quietly. He could see she was clenching her fists beneath her arms in annoyance.

Sandor sighed heavily and put his hands on her shoulders and turning them so his back was to the men and she was shielded from sight. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asked trying to look into her eyes.

At first she didn’t speak. She looked like she was trying to find the words but was coming up blank. When she finally looked up at him he saw sadness in her eyes.

“What’s going to happen when we’re finished here?” she asked quietly.

Sandor raised a brow at her. “We’ll go back to Kings Landing I imagine,” he shrugged. “I mean we’ll have to report on what we find and do all that shite. Sometimes that takes years.”

“And after that?” she challenged.

Sandor just stared at her having no idea what she was getting at.

“What?” he asked finally.

Arya looked down again and swallowed thickly before she spoke again. “You’ll be wealthy when we get back,” she grumbled at the sand. “You’ll have access to all the shit you want… properties… wine… women…”

Sandor’s hands dropped from her shoulders in astonishment. Was she actually still questioning his loyalty to her? How had this not been hammered into her thick head already? He thought they spoke about this many months ago.

“ _Girl_ ,” he said so heatedly that she finally met his gaze. “We discussed this. I go where you go.”

Arya snorted in disgust and took a step back. “We both know that wealth and power change people. You’ll go back to fucking whores and getting drunk all day,” she sneered. “Even if you don’t do it outwardly you will do it behind my back. I know you will.”

Sandor glared right back at her. When he took a step towards her she stepped back.

He could tell this thought must’ve been really bothering her for her to be so upset. She looked furious with him for something that hadn’t even happened yet. He wanted to fix this before it got out of hand.

“We might as well end this now before you break whatever it was we had,” she snapped.

Sandor stopped walking and stared at her with wide eyes. The only other time he was this scared was the last time she threatened to leave him for his pigheadedness in regards to Gendry. He also felt the heat of his anger creep up his neck for her threatening what they had over something so stupid as the mere possibility of him whoreing around when they got back to Kings Landing.

Sandor’s hand shot out and grabbed her by the arms and yanked her closer to him. When she struggled to break his hold he just held on tighter. Right now he didn’t care if he left a bruise or not. He was too infuriated.

“Girl,” he rumbled. “How many times do I have to tell you that I want you and only you? I don’t want some ugly whore who’s spread her legs for thousands of men. I’ve had those women and I don’t want them anymore. I just want you.”

“For now,” Arya spat while still trying to slither out of his hold.

Sandor sighed heavily through his nose and tried to calm himself down. He waited until she stopped struggling in his grasp. It only took a few minutes but when she stopped she seemed to have calmed down and was finally rational again.

He let go of her arms only to grip her cheeks in his palms. “I still wanted you when we got to Kings Landing and I still want you now,” he whispered looking deep into her eyes. “I wouldn’t have come all this way otherwise.”

He leaned in so for sure only she could hear his next words. “You know I’ve never loved another person before? Not even my own father. You are the only one I will probably ever love.”

When she didn’t respond he leaned back to look at her. She was still refusing to look at her but he saw a tear fall down her cheek slowly. Her hand quickly shot up and slapped against her face and wiped it away roughly. She looked sad and extremely embarrassed.

He gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. He would never voice it, but he’d never been more terrified than he was right now at the prospect of her leaving him.

“Arya,” he said softly. “Please say something.”

She cleared her throat delicately before she spoke.

“O.k.” she said meekly.

“Aye?” he asked double-checking.

She nodded swallowing loudly. “I’m… sorry… I just… with us getting here… I….I…” 

Sandor didn’t let her continue. He knew she was humiliated right now and he didn’t need to hear her try and explain herself, he understood completely. He understood this was probably in the back of her mind the entire time they were at sea, and combined with the stress of being in charge of such a large crew, she was cracking a under the added pressure.

He pulled her into his chest and just held her tightly. Her arms locked around his ribs and it was almost painful in how hard she was clutching him, but he didn’t care. He just didn’t want her to feel like shit anymore. He squeezed his arms tighter around her and rubbed her back just how she liked.

“I love you,” she said with her voice muffled in the fabric of his shirt.

Sandor buried his face into her hair. “I love you, too,” he mumbled quietly.

He hated saying the words even if he meant them. They felt foreign on his lips and he didn’t like showing all this vulnerability, but he knew she needed to hear it today or all days.

When he felt her embrace begin to loosen he swooped down and gave her a chaste kiss. “We done with all this sad shit?” he asked gruffly.

Arya nodded and rubbed her eyes with her fists as if trying to erase the tears she just shed. He rubbed her back as they made their way back to the camp. He gave her fingers a tight squeeze before they put a respectable distance between themselves.

The sun was beginning to set over the blue waters. The warm ait had died down leaving the camp comfortably cooler. All the tents were set up in a heard together near the boats in case they needed to make a dash back to the ship. Fires were lit and dotted several spots within the camp. Sandor thought this night was gorgeous, especially with his little wolf-bitch in tow.

As they walked through the camp Sandor saw a group of Northerners passing around a flagon of wine and laughing and pointed off to the left. Sandor turned and chuckled that they were openly mocking Ryton digging the hole for the privy.

“Oi! Ryton! When you done diggn’ that shitter why don’t you sharpen my blades as well? I’m in need of a squire anyway!” one of them yelled making the entire group laugh, including Sandor.

“I still can’t believe you ordered him to do that,” Arya snickered quietly. “You are such a shit.”

Sandor grinned down at her, happy she was back to her regular self. “Aye, that boy needs to learn his place. Speaking of which I think you and I need to do some reminiscing tonight.”

Arya raised a thick brow at him in question.

“We’re back in tents, girl,” he murmured quietly. “Laying under the stars, on a voyage… It’s just like when we were riding to Kings Landing to kill Cersei and Gregor.”

Arya rolled her eyes at him before she spoke. “Is this your way of telling me you want me to fuck you in our tent tonight?”

She laughed when Sandor nodded enthusiastically.

“The men will hear…” she said looking around nervously.

Sandor stopped dead in his tracks and glared at her. “You can’t be serious!” he hissed quietly. “Are you suggesting that we’re not going to fuck _at all_ while we’re here?”

“Well… there is nothing to muffle the sound…” she said wearily.

“No, no, no! If you were honestly thinking that than we might as well get back on that fucking ship! Who knows how long we’ll be here? And Gods, you honestly expect me to keep my hands to myself for _months_? I’ve never heard of anything so fucking ridiculous! I mean of all the things –“

“– Alright! Shit! I’ll still fuck you while we’re here,” she interrupted throwing her hands up. He could tell she was trying not to laugh at him. “Gods, I swear I was waiting for you to stamp your foot like a bad-tempered child.”

Sandor glared at her smirking at him. It was clear she was amused that he was so angry over something that wasn’t apparently as high on her priority list as it was his.

“Shut it, girl,” he growled. “You’re just as horny as I am.”


	14. Arya

Arya awoke in the morning feeling hot and stuffy. She immediately pushed herself off Sandor’s broad chest and rolled over to cool herself down. She stretched her arms over her head and cracked her neck.

It was still the wee hours of the morning and she could hear that none of the other men were awake quite yet. When she moved to stand she felt Sandor tugging on the hem of her sark, pulling her back down to sit.

“Where you going?” he rumbled sleepily.

“Outside, it’s too bloody hot in here,” she whispered.

Sandor snorted and wound both his arms around her ribs and pulled her back down to lay with him.

“You still have to keep up with your end of the bargain, little wolf,” he murmured while slowly petting her head.

Arya raised her eyes in question and he suddenly flipped them over so he was on top of her with her arms pinned over her head. He grinned down at her clearly enjoying the closeness so early in the morning.

“Can’t it wait until tonight?” she huffed. She wanted to get moving right away as they had a long day ahead of them.

Sandor just grinned and shook his head before he began sucking on her neck.

“You need to learn to relax, girl,” he mumbled into her neck. “You spend too much time working and not enough time playing. It’ll turn you into a mean old shit like Tywin Lannister.”

Arya hummed and stroked the back of his head. She suddenly noticed that his hair was significantly longer than when they left.

“Your hair’s getting long,” she murmured.

“So is yours,” he said running his giant paw through her dark hair.

Arya sighed and enjoyed the feel of his hand before she spoke. “I know. I need to cut it.”

Sandor shook his head and kissed her sweetly on the cheek. “Don’t. I like having something to grab onto when you’re being a feral little creature in bed.”

Arya laughed and rolled them over so she was straddling his hips. She put her hands on either side of his head and peered down at him in amusement.

“I thought you liked it when I was a feral creature,” she breathed into his ear before she sucked on his lobe.

Sandor nodded and grabbed her face to bring her down for a rough kiss. Arya sighed and let his tongue take lead. She loved how demanding he was with her attentions. He always wanted her and she was more than happy to take part.

His hands started roaming over her back and bottom before he moved to the laces of her breeches. He grunted in frustration when he couldn’t untangle the knot he created. Arya laughed and sat up to help him while he undid his own pants. She hopped off his lap so she could shimmy her trousers off and then made quick work of her shirt. When she was finally naked Sandor’s big hands grabbed her by the hips and plopped her back onto his lap.

Arya kissed him feverishly and let their tongues twist together. She moaned when his hands began kneading her breasts and pinching her nipples. She ground her hips against his, feeling his hardening cock against her belly. Sandor grunted and started kissing down her chest and began sucking and nipping at her breasts. Arya moaned again and let her nails rake down his scalp.

“Sandor,” she moaned while letting her head fall back.

Her vision blurred she felt his teeth graze her right nipple and she grabbed him by the face and yanked him up into another heated kiss. He ground his hips against hers and started squeezing her hips tighter as the kiss grew more and more heated.

“I – I don’t want be on top,” she breathed against his lips, finally voicing what she was thinking the entire time.

Sandor gave her a chaste kiss and tucked her hair behind her ear. “What do you want then?” he asked a little hungrily with heavy eye lids. 

Arya bit her bottom lip in slight embarrassment. She still wasn’t used to speaking about making love as she was still pretty new to the whole experience. But she also knew that he liked when she did. She scolded herself for not getting over the shyness she seemed to always feel about such matters.

Sandor chuckled at her obvious discomfort and bumped his forehead against hers.

“I can’t fuck you the way you want unless you tell me, Arya.”

Arya swallowed hard before she finally mustered up the courage to speak. “I – I want to lie on our sides while you t – take me from behind,” she stuttered awkwardly.

Sandor grinned down at her while his hands gripped her ass. “You liked when we did that did you?”

Arya nodded shyly making him chuckle again before he lowered them down to their tent’s floor. He then flipped her over roughly and yanked her close so her back was flush against his chest. Arya groaned when his teeth pulled on her earlobe.

“You’re a horny little nymph aren’t you, girl?” he whispered gruffly in her ear. His hands moving to fondle her tits again.

Arya whimpered and pressed her rear into his cock. He grunted and let his hand slide down to rub his palm over the spot between her legs.

“I’m waiting on an answer, girl,” he mumbled into her ear.

Arya swallowed thickly before she could find the words to answer him. “I am for you,” she whispered.

His fingers slid in between her folds making Arya turn her head so she could bite him on the arm her head was pillowed on. She heard him growl and his hand swung backwards only to slap his palm hard on her bottom.

Arya cried out his name and wiggled backwards against him to gain some, if any kind of friction.

“S - Sandor.” she mewled. “P - please...” 

“Say it,” he growled into her ear. Arya swallowed thickly and tried to speak, but all that came out was moan. 

“I’m not going to fuck you until I hear you beg for my cock,” he whispered in her ear before biting it again.

“Fuck me, Sandor,” she whimpered while turning her head to look into his eyes. “Please, fuck me.”

Sandor kissed her hard on the mouth before taking hold of his cock and slowly pushing it inside her hot wet folds. Arya groaned when she felt him fill her halfway and then leave her completely. He did it again and again making Arya cry out each time. When he finally filled her completely he stayed there for a moment before he slowly began rocking his hips back and forth slowly. His arm then hooked around her leg and lifted it so he could move deeper inside her.

“Holy shit,” Arya whimpered.

“Still such a tight little thing,” he groaned into her neck. “You feel so fucking good.”

As he continued she could tell he was getting lost in his pleasure. His strokes were no longer hitting the spot she wanted, he wasn’t fucking her as deep as he was previous. Every time he started to recede she jutted her hips backwards to follow him. When he didn’t catch on what she was trying to do she slapped her hand down onto the floor in frustration.

“Sandor,” she whimpered. “P – Please, fuck me deeper.”

Sandor bit down on her neck making her cry out his name.

“You like it when my cock hits you nice and deep?”

He didn’t wait for a reply as he dug his fingers into her skin and yanked her backwards roughly, fucking her just as deep as she wanted.

“Fuck, Sandor! Yes!” she cried out when he started slamming into her harder and harder.

She gasped for breath as he kept pounding into her just the way she wanted. She felt like she was loosing her mind in the pleasure of it all. His hand was gripping her leg so tightly she almost wished it would bruise to remember this morning. His mouth was biting her pulse like an animal, and she loved that she cold feel his hot breath on her neck. He was breathing and grunting like a hound after a long run. 

All she wanted was that sweet release and right when she felt that it was about to hit her, he pulled out.

“Sandor! What the fuck?!” she screeched rolling over to look up at him furiously. She realized he was grinning down at her while they both panted like dogs in the Southern summers. His cock was so hard it was starting to turn upwards and it was shiny and wet with her own fluids.

Sandor chuckled and gave her a chaste kiss. “I fucked you like how you wanted. Now I want to fuck you how I want.”

He grabbed her by her hips and roughly rolled her over so she was on her belly. She caught on to what he was trying to do and crawled on her hands and knees so her ass was right in line with his fully hardened cock. She looked over her shoulder and saw his eyes were raking over her hungrily while he stroked his manhood.

Her head dropped between her arms and although she knew he was just trying to prolong their pleasure, she was still irritated he was taking so long.

She moaned when she felt his calloused hands squeeze her ass roughly. She felt his tongue lick her back and she moaned at the animalistic gesture.

“Spank me,” she whispered, knowing immediately that he would.

When she felt his hand slap her rump she cried out his name.

“I’m going to fuck you good a hard, girl,” he said gruffly into her ear. “You let me know if I’m being too rough, aye?”

Arya nodded and had to stop herself from screaming when she felt his big cock slam inside of her. She couldn’t even keep up to his fast strokes so she just let him grip her hips as he propelled her backwards with each stroke. She couldn’t stop the whimpers that escaped her lips as she was yanked back and forth. When she felt his palm hit her rump again she felt the fluttering of her orgasm tickle her nerves. He didn’t stop though, he just continued slamming into her like a mule.

“Sandor!” she cried out when she felt her orgasm hit her like a sack of bricks.

It was like a wave of pleasure that washed over her. Her thighs quivered and body convulsed violently. She couldn’t even hold herself up anymore so she let her arms give out and fell onto the ground.

None of this stopped Sandor of course. He just continued to hold her hips up as he pounded into her mercilessly. She heard him grunt as his orgasm took hold of him as well, spilling his seed inside her body.

Arya was still shaking when he finally let go of her hips and collapse to the ground next to her. She was panting trying to get a hold of herself she felt Sandor grip her mound possessively making her jump.

“I think I might be addicted to those sounds you make when I fuck you like that,” he said smiling at her.

Arya couldn’t come up with a witty response as she was still trying to catch her breath. When she finally felt like she had come back to her senses she rolled over onto her belly and bunched up the furs as a makeshift pillow. She turned her head so she was looking at Sandor lying on his back with his arm thrown over his eyes.

“I bet your blacksmith boy didn’t fuck you that good,” Sandor mumbled cockily.

Arya rolled her eyes but didn’t respond. She didn’t want to talk about him right after they had just made love. It seemed odd.

Sandor opened his eyes and looked at her, clearly waiting for a retort. When she didn’t say anything he rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his elbow. His other hand began running his fingertips up and down her spine making her shiver from the sensual touches.

“Hmm?” he asked, still waiting for an answer.

Arya just closed her eyes and shrugged. She didn’t want to fuel his haughtiness anymore than he already was.

“What does that mean?” Sandor asked, somewhat irritated at her obvious refusal to talk about it.

“He was eager,” she mumbled trying to answer his question while also trying to keep some kind of decorum. “He was… I don’t know, just different than you.”

“Different how?” Sandor asked quickly.

Arya opened her eyes and saw that he was completely fixated on her answer. He looked utterly fascinated and she rolled her eyes at his juvenile behaviour.

“Gods, Sandor,” she grumbled. “I don’t know.”

“Tell me,” he prodded.

His fingers had come to a halt on her back and his palm was lying flat between her shoulders. When she still didn’t answer him he grasped her side and gave her a little shake impatiently.

“He was very… gentle and sweet…” she said trying to tread carefully.

“And I’m not?” Sandor said irately.

Arya laughed once and touched his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Yes, dear. You are very sweet,” she said in a motherly tone.

Sandor snorted and shrugged off her hand. “What else?”

“He… didn’t really know how to… you know…” She winced and peaked up from where she was hiding beneath her arm.

Sandor stared at her like he was trying to solve a math equation. When he still didn’t figure it out he scoffed and threw his hand up in the air.

“For fuck sakes, girl!” he grumbled impatiently. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“He didn’t know how to get a woman in a proper… you know… mood.”

Sandor stared at her for a few moments and Arya actually thought he might be having some kind of medical problem as he remained still for so long. She actually giggled at his expression when he finally realized what she meant.

“You mean he didn’t warm you up at all?” he asked.

Arya shrugged and turned her face away for the next bit she was going to tell him. “He kissed me and said that he loved me and that I was beautiful.”

“Oh, aye?” Sandor asked while letting his hand rub up and down her back. “Did he realize that a woman needs more than pretty words and soft kisses to wet her cunt?”

Arya didn’t say anything. She could feel her face burning with embarrassment. She hated this conversation both because it was so deeply personal and because it was stroking Sandor’s already inflated ego.

“Let me guess,” Sandor continued giddily. “You didn’t finish, did you?”

Arya remained silent.

Sandor burst out laughing and stroked the back of her head lovingly.

Arya huffed and swatted his hand away. “Leave him be. His intentions were in the right place. He was just too eager for me.”

“Aye, I saw the way he was looking at you when we were in Winterfell. But perhaps I need to refresh your memory on how he stabbed you before he tried to kill me?”

Arya sighed and stroked the scar in the centre of her hand. She remembered alright.

“When he came before you did he at least offer to finish you off, did he?” Sandor asked.

“I am not talking about this with you!” Arya growled while slapping his shoulder roughly.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Sandor chuckled as he stroked her back. “Little shit had a lot to learn in keeping a woman happy. Especially a little hellion like you.” 

Arya huffed and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to rid herself of all memories of all the humiliation Gendry had endured that night. He was so apologetic after he came over the sheets. She was mortified for him.

“I have to say,” Sandor rumbled into her hair as he kissed her head. “It makes me very happy that I was the first man to make you come.” Arya felt him lean in and whisper in her ear for the next bit. “It also makes me very happy that I am to only one to do it.”

Arya bit her lip at his possessive behaviour. He was always so competitive when it came to making love. When they were first together he was obsessed with making sure she was happy in bed. It was as if he was afraid that she would leave him if he didn’t make her wail and cry out his name. That behaviour had dampened slightly over the last couple months, but times like this he would revert to his old ways.

Sandor grabbed an old dirty sark and cleaned himself off and then handed it to her so she could do the same. When she was clean of his seed she threw the shirt into the left corner of the tent and lifted his arm so she could crawl into his embrace. She hummed when she felt Sandor’s big arm enclose around her and squeeze tight. He knew she liked that and it warmed her heart that he was always trying to make her feel more loved than she already felt. 

“You should feel more comfortable in talking to me about what you like in bed,” Sandor mumbled after some time.

Arya felt her face go red and ducked down so she didn’t have to look at him. “I know,” she grumbled.

“Are you embarrassed because you’re fucking an ugly dog like me, or is it because of something else?” he asked quietly.

Arya jumped a little in shock and pushed up on his massive chest to look at him proper. “You’re not ugly and you are not a dog, Sandor. And have _never_ been embarrassed to love you,” she said fiercely. “Even if you were, I’m not that fucking superficial.”

“Then what the fuck is the problem?” he growled, clearly annoyed by her lack of input.

Arya swallowed before she answered. “I don’t know… I just… I… I… don’t think normal women talk about such things.”

Sandor snorted. “Believe me, most wives are actually quite critical with their men in bed. Or so I’ve heard anyway,” he muttered while throwing a sheet over their naked bodies and pulling her back down to rest on his chest. “You don’t have to do what I want every time we fuck. I want you to know that.”

Arya nodded against his chest quietly. “I – I know.”

Sandor just rubbed her back and dropped the subject for which Arya was grateful. When they heard the men beginning to rouse they both decided to get ready for the day.

Just when Sandor was about to leave the tent Arya grabbed his hand and yanked him back to where she stood. She gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled him down so she could kiss him deeply. She was grateful that he told her what he did and she wanted to show her gratitude, even if she couldn’t voice it.

When she pulled away he glared at her angrily.

“What?” she said shocked that he was so annoyed with her out of no where.

“You know what,” he grumbled. “You teasing me right before we leave for the day, bitch.”

Arya burst out laughing and swatted him on the chest playfully. Despite himself he chuckled and gave her ass a swat right back.

“Alright, sweetling. Get that sweet arse of yours moving,” he said putting his hands on her hips and leading her out the opening of the tent.

Arya grinned and intentionally jutted her ass out against his groin to tease him. She heard him grunt behind her and squeeze her hips tighter. “You keep that shit up I’ll drag you back inside this bloody tent and fuck you till you scream,” he growled into her ear.

Arya grinned and looked over her shoulder and smiled at him flirtatiously.

“Promise?” she asked.

Sandor swatted her ass again in full view of several Northerners making Arya blush.

**XXXX**

Arya and Ryton led the men through the eerie looking forest. The woods were dark despite it being a hot Southern day. The thick leaves above them blotted out any resemblance of the sun to shine on their heads. There was very little being said as the men were holding their swords and bows, ready for anything this mystic land had to throw in their direction.

Arya’s eyes squinted at something in the distance. She made a beeline for it and she heard Ryton follow her right at her heels. She saw a marking on the tree that looked to be something scraped the bark clean off the tree. Arya ran her hand over it and determined the marking was too thick to be an arrow or sword, perhaps a spear?

“That has to be a bow mark,” Ryton said.

Right when Arya was about to tell him otherwise Sandor jumped in.

“It’s too thick to be an arrow or sword, you moron,” Sandor barked behind them.

Arya had to supress a smirk before she turned. “Sandor’s right. I think it’s a spear.”

“Who in Seven Hells would have a spear in these parts?” Burney asked holding his sword with white knuckles.

“There’s a myth I read about the People of the Petrified Woods. But it’s just a story book. At this point it’s the only thing we can go on,” Arya said with a shrug.

“It is not just a story book, _Captain_ ,” Ryton snapped. “If everything we read was reduced to ‘ _just a storybook_ ’ then we wouldn’t have even found this island.”

“You watch your fucking mouth!” Sandor boomed while walking towards Ryton threateningly. “You keep talking to the Captain like that and I’ll skin your fucking hide.” 

“No, no, Sandor,” Arya said in a sickly sweet tone. “The poor lad’s feelings are hurt by my comments. Perhaps we should get him some warm milk and a blanket because he is so distraught.”

The entire fleet of men burst out laughing, including Sandor. Arya smirked at Ryton’s red face as he was clearly trying to control his temper. She then walked around him and began marching further into the brush.

As they continued to walk Arya heard something in the distance. Her hand shot up signalling the men to stop walking and listen. Arya heard it again, it sounded like two people whispering back and forth lowly. Arya waited a few moments to hear the sounds again, but alas, nothing came.

Arya looked over to Sandor and he nodded once, indicating that he was also ready to move foreword.

However, when they walked ten paces foreword they were suddenly surrounded by a group of men and women holding long spears and screaming at them in a language Arya didn’t understand.


	15. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again so sorry for all the delays! My computer is crapping out constantly. 
> 
> I hope you guys like reading it as much as I liked writing it! 
> 
> Please tell me if you like it or not, I’m getting mixed feelings about which direction it should be heading! 
> 
> P.S for those of you wondering, the language used is called Michif. It's a language used by a tribe in Canada called the Métis :)
> 
> -bebe
> 
> .....

Sandor dashed to Arya’s side faster than he thought he was still able to move. His arm wrapped around her waist and he shoved her behind him roughly. Her needle was already drawn and she had that dangerous look in her eye. It was the same look when she came running to his aid when Georden was about to kill him.

The rest of the men were already in position like Sandor taught them. Their backs were to each other in a circle with their weapons drawn to the odd looking assailants. This impressed Sandor a great deal since it took so long to teach them all to work in succession with one another.

The men and woman were clearly from a tribe of the land, similar to the Dothraki, but without the murderous looking men. These men were much shorter and were not quite as bulky. They were still clearly quite strong, but only about as the same in strength as Jon Snow or the ginger cunt northerner. The men were not wearing shirts and their skin was tanned and leathered. Their hair was long and dark and kept in buns on the tops of their heads while the women had long braids going down to their waists. The men had red and blue painted on their chest and thick arms. The women had no colorings on them, but each of them had an insignia quite literally burned into their chests. Sandor would recognize burn markings better than anyone else. The men were not particularly tall, but definitely taller than Ryton or Burney. They were all wearing breeches that looked to be made out of the hides of scaly looking animals. The women were wearing shirts that resembled the female Dothraki style, but also made out of the odd reptilian material. The women’s hands were also covered in rings and necklaces made from wood and colourful pebbles obviously found around the Lost Islands.

Sandor was honestly shocked the women were fighting alongside the men as it was a rarity in any culture. Their spears were tipped with arrowheads as were their bows. Each of their weapons were painted various odd colors with even odder symbols engraved on them.

Sandor could feel Arya trying to struggle to break his hold and when he didn’t relent he felt something sharp cutting into his wrist lightly.

“If you don’t release me I’ll take your fucking hand off,” Arya whispered lowly.

When he didn’t respond he felt the blade dig in further making him wince.

“ _Now_ , Sandor.”

He sighed heavily through his nose and released her begrudgingly. He knew he shouldn’t let his feelings towards her cloud his judgement or his orders. He was a dog after all, and dogs were supposed t be obedient. Even if their master was also their mate.

“Stay close,” he murmured.

Arya wrenched herself from his grip and walked to the front of the circle only for Sandor to follow closely at her heels.

When they made it to the front Arya stood still with her arms clasp behind her waist. She looked over the tribe dangerously and waited for someone to come forward.

Sandor’s eyebrows raised when he saw a man about the same age as the maester in Kings Landing step forward. He had a long walking stick to assist him as he was clearly too old to walk on his own.

“Taanayhki kiiya ki oota?!” the old man yelled.

Sandor raised a brow and looked at Arya in question. He had no idea how the fuck she was going to navigate around this. How in the Seven were they supposed to prevent themselves from getting slaughtered when they didn’t even speak the common tongue?

Sandor knew these men had the advantage of this being their home. These savages knew exactly where every rock was placed on these islands, they knew where to hide in the trees, they knew their lands as most tribes did. They could easily sneak up on their entire fleet and massacre the whole lot of them without a blink of an eye. It amazed him they were even alive right now.

”Niiyanaan piihtikway la pae,” Ryton shouted from behind Sandor.

He turned and saw Ryton walking towards the group of men slowly with his hands in the air.

”Niiyanaan piihtikway la pae,” Ryton repeated.

“What the fuck are you saying?” Sandor hissed.

“I told him we mean him no harm,” Ryton said irritably at Sandor.

Arya turned and put her hands on her hips. “And when exactly were you planning on tell me that you spoke their language?”

Ryton swallowed and bowed to the old man while he spoke. “I met a man in my youth who taught me some phrases. He claimed he was one of these tribesmen. I told you that I’ve wanted to sail here since I was boy. That was the reason why.”

Arya glared at him angrily before turning back to the old man.

“Tell him we are only here to learn of their lands. We are not here to conquer or pillage his people,” Arya demanded.

Ryton began speaking quickly to the elder of the tribe. It was clear the men and women looked apprehensive of the new group of pale faces, but after some time the man harrumphed and began walking towards Arya.

Sandor’s hand shot out in front of her to pull her back again, but she dodged his grasp and began walking forward to meet the elder in the middle.

“Relax, Sandor,” she whispered quietly so only he could hear.

Sandor’s nerves were on edge as he watched the only thing he had value begin to walk toward imminent danger. He didn’t want to undermine her in front of everyone, but he was widely uncomfortable (to say the least) that she was so close to a threat. His heart beat erratically in his chest and his palms were doused in sweat. He readied himself to pull her away if need be. 

When they were about three paces from each other the man stopped and looked her over with mild interest.

“Enn zhenn faam,” the man said. “Kaniikaniit la naasyoon?”

Sandor turned to Ryton to see what the man said. He was grinning manically when he spoke.

“He’s asking if a young woman is the leader of this tribe,” Ryton said smugly.

Sandor watched as Arya nodded and folded her arms across her chest.

“Enn zhenn faam aen soldaa di yayr?” the old man asked.

“He wants to know if the young lady is a warrior or not.”

Arya nodded fiercely again.

“Kaa ni waapahten,” the man said glaring at Arya and Ryton before turning and walking back to his tribe.

“He said ‘we’ll see,’” Ryton said grinning from ear to ear.

Sandor watched in a panic as the old man started ordering several people in his tribe around. Several of them were moving and raising their hands, as if volunteering for something. The old man pointed at one of the taller women and barked at her to do something. Sandor was so lost he glared at Ryton for answers.

“He’s saying a true leader is a true warrior. If she is who she says she is then she will have to prove it,” Ryton said as the old man spoke. “Only then will they welcome us with open arms.”

“And how am I supposed to prove it?” Arya asked completely calm.

“You will have to fight his best female warrior,” Ryton said seemingly absolutely pleased.

Arya gave a long look to Sandor.

He hated this. He didn’t want her to be doing such a thing. They didn’t know these people, they didn’t know how they fought, they could easily have been as hell-bent on fighting as the Dothraki in which case there was no way she could win.

Her opponent was a whole head and shoulders taller than Arya. She also looked stronger in her arms and maybe even legs. She was eyeing Arya up with an almost amused expression, like it was funny such a small woman would even challenge her at all.

“Arya – ” Sandor started.

“– It’s _Captain_ , Clegane,” Arya spat. “And you will stand down until I tell you otherwise.”

Sandor grit his teeth at being reprimanded like that in front of a whole hoard of men. He knew he was crossing so many lines in trying to keep her safe, but he couldn’t help it.

“She’ll be fine,” Burney said patting Sandor on the back. “She’s a good fighter and she wont lose.”

Sandor shoved off his hand and told him to fuck off. The last thing he wanted was this little shit’s pity. He pressed his lips together as one of the savages threw a staff to Arya for her to use in the battle.

 _If she dies during this I will put my fucking sword through that old bastard’s throat_ , Sandor thought furiously.

Sandor watched as Arya spun the staff in circles to warm up. He hoped her years practising in Braavos was enough to beat this woman.

“Maachi!” the man yelled.

“Begin!” Ryton translated.

Arya stood as still as an oak with her staff pointed behind her. The big woman actually laughed as she began to circle her younger opponent. The woman started to twirl her staff looking over Arya condescendingly.

“Kitimaakun,” the woman said before lunging at her.

“Pathetic,” Ryton interpreted.

Arya ducked from the woman and side-stepped gracefully. The woman looked at Arya in surprise and then lunged a second time, only for Arya to duck out of the way easily. The woman turned around and glared at Arya, apparently understanding that Arya’s technique was greater than she anticipated. Every time the woman would try and land a blow Arya would simply jump, duck, or dodge out of the way.

Sandor realized that Arya was playing with her prey. She wasn’t even attempting to land any hits with her. She wanted to embarrass the larger woman for underestimating her so greatly.

If he wasn’t so worried he would’ve applauded and made fun of the woman for being so dense.

“Fucking hells Ary – er I mean Captain,” Sandor yelled. “Finish her!”

The only time he had ever been this worried was when she was trying to help him kill Gregor. Even then he knew he could do everything in his power to help her. Right now he couldn’t do anything. He just had to stand here like a fucking moron while he watched the only thing he loved possibly be killed by some copper faced heathen.

Arya held her staff like a bat and swung it so it hit the woman directly in the ribs. The woman screamed in pain and then grabbed Arya’s stick and yanked her forward. She then backhanded Arya across the face sending her tumbling to the ground.

Sandor jumped forward but stopped suddenly when Arya flipped back onto her feet, her bottom lip now bleeding from a split lip.

Arya then let her aggression out in full force. She twirled hit the blunt end of her stick into the woman’s face sending her stumbling back. She then twirled again and hit her a second time in the side of the face with blood spraying out of her mouth.

The men cheered for Arya and were chanting her name in support. Some of them had their fists in the air and were yelling at her to get up when she got knocked down. They laughed and applauded when Arya knocked the woman down on her ass for a third time.

Sandor looked over at the chief and saw he looked angry that such a small woman was defeating his best fighter. He also saw that Ryton had that same look.

Arya and the woman’s sticks came in contact and both were trying to push the other to the ground. It was clear this woman was stronger than Arya as she was stepping backwards from the force. He could see sweat forming on her brow and her teeth barred as she grunted in exertion.

“Arya!” he yelled. “Remember Georden and knock her on her arse!”

And Sandor grinned from ear to ear when Arya did the move he taught her two nights ago. She then kicked the stick from the woman and pointed the end of it to her face, clearly in warning that if she didn’t give up Arya had no problem bashing her brains in.

“Pooyoo niiya!” the woman yelled covering her head with her arms. “Pooyoo niiya!”

Arya’s head shot up to Ryton and looked at him questioningly.

“She says she surrenders,” he answered glumly.

Sandor’s jaw actually dropped when Arya stepped over the woman and held out her hand as if she was just another man she was practising fighting in the pits with.

The woman took Arya’s hand cautiously and hauled her to her feet. The woman was looking over Arya with an uneasiness that Sandor had seen one thousand times before. It was the look of shock that she was such a good fighter and so small and civil about it as well. His chest always swelled with pride when that happened.

“You are a good fighter,” Arya said.

Ryton walked over to stand next to Arya so he could translate the conversation.

When he spoke the woman’s eyebrows shot up and she nodded in thanks. She then quickly spoke something to Ryton.

“She says she wants to learn to fight like you. She wants you to teach her your ways. She says you fight like smoke, always everywhere and no where at the same time.” 

Arya nodded and agreed to help the woman which earned her a broad smile from the savage before she walked back to her group.

Arya then turned and looked at the old man in anticipation.

He looked at Ryton and began to speak loudly so his entire clan could hear him.

“Very well,” Ryton interpreted for the Chief. “Your tribe is welcome here for as long as you like. To have a woman as good a warrior as your leader means we will welcome you to our lands. You will stay in our beds and we will feed you. You may learn our ways and our people. But if you try and hurt us we will kill you all and sink your big canoe. You may follow us now.”

The man then turned and began to walk further into the brush with his tribe following him.

When Sandor reached Arya he wanted to grab her chin and inspect her wound, but held himself back. He sheathed his sword and followed her as she began to walk.

“Are you hurt?” he asked quietly.

“No,” she answered just as lowly. “I didn’t mean to speak to you like that before I just – ”

“ – don’t worry about it,” he muttered quickly. He was embarrassed that he was so weak he couldn’t just let her do her job without acting like a concerned wet nurse. 

Arya nodded and looked behind her at the men following with weary eyes.

“Do you think they’ll try and kill us?” she asked.

Sandor shrugged. “Too soon to be certain. Either way we should keep our guard up.”

Arya nodded again and they walked in silence for a short distance before Sandor started chuckling.

“What?” Arya asked.

“I think Ryton’s angry you won. He looks as though someone pissed in his porridge.”

Arya grinned and turned her head back to the tribesmen, following them to find out what this new land was to bring.


	16. Arya

Arya kept her face as calm and as neutral as she could while walking with the Chief with Sandor right on her heels. Ryton was right beside her ready to use his newly discovered translating skills at any given minute as well. He was clearly quite proud of himself to spring that fact on her at the last second. She could see that he loved showing off his new skill and it annoyed her to her core.

She decided it would be best she let the Chief speak first. She didn’t know or understand their customs yet and she didn’t want to offend them more than what they already had.

The man looked at her peculiarly for a brief moment before his hand went to her bicep and squeezed. She heard Sandor chuff behind her and she shot him a filthy glance over her shoulder. He needed to relax if they were going to get through this meet unscathed.

The Chief asked her a question in his native tongue and waited for her to answer. 

“He says it’s odd that such a small woman can beat someone that is so much bigger than her. He wants to know how you are so fast in dodging Tarni’s blows,” Ryton explained.

“Tell him I learned it from a man far away from these Islands. It took years of practice,” she said.

The man nodded in understanding after Ryton explained for her. He then murmured something to Ryton in haste, as if he was excited to tell her something.

“Tarni has also been training for years. It appears we have much to learn from you. Our people have never met a pale face before. You are the first people to visit our lands at all. We’ve heard tales from elders that your people rape women and kill babes. Is this true?”

“Yes,” Arya said carefully. “Some pale faces do this, but we do not hold that volition. Since I am a woman leading I have condemned them from doing so. If any of my men harm your people without provocation than you have my blessing to do whatever it is you see fit.”

When Ryton explained what Arya said the old man nodded solemnly, mulling over her words.

They continued the rest of their walk in silence, both parties considering Arya’s words. She would kick herself if one of her men tried anything on any of the women. She could never guarantee that an attempted rape wouldn’t happen. However, she did know that her men would have a very hard difficult time in attacking the women if they fought like the woman named Tarni.

They were walking for so long Arya felt her legs beginning to ache. She obviously didn’t say anything, but she hoped they would reach their destination soon as she was getting tired of walking through such an expansive forest.

When she heard the crunching under her feet she looked down and was shocked to see she was stepping on the bones of some small animals. They looked to be the size of cats or squirrels.

The man chuckled looked at Ryton to translate.

“He says they leave the bones here to warn off any bad spirits.”

Arya nodded, feigning her understanding.

Arya heard a stream or river in the distance that was getting louder and louder. There also seemed to be a mass amount of ferns and shrubbery that was covering the otherwise barren forest floor. She looked into the distance and saw a massive rock wall that stretched into the clouds. Arya couldn’t imagine where they could possibly be going since it looked they were about to hit a dead end.

When they got closer she realized the rocks were covered in vines and leaves from the hot Southern climate. It was as though long fingers covered the grey rock that loomed so far above them.

One of the soldiers walked forward and moved some of the vines to reveal a deep tunnel where she could barely see the light at the end of it.

The Chief stepped through and Arya followed. She could hear Sandor muttering under his breath at how this was a perfect spot for an ambush. She shot him another glance in warning to behave and he just glared back at her. It was clear he didn’t like what they were doing but she was grateful he was for once keeping his foul mouth shut.

The cave was cold and damp and Arya had to watch her footing as the rocks were uneven. As Arya walked she kept her hand on the hilt of her needle just in case Sandor was right.

She suddenly heard a loud screeching coming from above her and the unmistakeable flap of bats’ wings. She saw the black cloud of bats fly out the tail end of the tunnel in anger at be so disturbed.

When they finally reached the end of the tunnel Arya’s jaw dropped.

It was like a large circle was cut out of the mountain and this village was neatly placed there by the Gods themselves. The sun shown brightly on the village with hard grey rock surrounding the entire town, a complete fortress, the only way in or out was through that tunnel. There was a giant river as clear as glass running through the small village. It was bluer than the dresses Sansa used to wear. Arya followed the river and realized it was a runoff from the top of the mountains that sprayed down in small waterfall where she saw some small children playing in. The grass was long and a shade of green Arya had only ever seen in storybooks. Off to the south there were various melon and fruit trees with a vegetable plot right next to it. In east there lied tents and small huts, maybe fifty to sixty. The tents were made out of the same scale material as the clothes the people wore, and the huts were made from sticks and clay, all things they found locally no doubt. There was also a large area that Arya would recognize from a mile away, it was their version of the fighting pits where they trained their soldiers. It was obvious this was a large part f their culture as it was almost bigger than the area where their crops were.

“He says we can stay in the tents,” Ryton said ripping her out of her analyzation of their town.

“Tell him no thank you. We don’t want to put him out. We brought our own tents and gear, we can set up wherever he sees fit,” Arya said.

When Ryton explained the man nodded and actually bowed in thanks. They were then given instructions that when they were done the men can eat with the villagers, but he wanted Arya and Ryton to join him for dinner. Arya quickly explained that her second in command was Sandor and if he didn’t come neither would she. When she said this the man looked at Sandor up and down and then nodded in approval of her request. Arya gave him a polite smile and allowed one of his men to lead the way of where they were to set up.

While Arya and Sandor set up their tent they spoke to each other in whispers.

“What do you think?” Arya asked.

“This place is strange. I think we need to watch ourselves when we sleep. Some of the villagers didn’t look to happy to see us.”

Arya nodded and when they finally finished the sun was just beginning to set.

One of the men Arya recognized as being amongst the people of the ambush sauntered over to her and Sandor’s tent. He was about her age, maybe a few years older. His long black hair was tied in a knot at the top of his head and his arms and legs resembled more like tree trunks than actual flesh. He was much shorter than Sandor, but a little bit stronger for the looks of it.

His eyes were raking up and down her body and she could tell he was imagining her naked. Sandor didn’t see as he was inside the tent taking a nap before supper. She thanked the Gods for that as he probably would have already attacked the poor man where he stood. 

Arya glared at the man and folded her arms over her chest. The man grinned and jerked his head towards the Chief’s table that was plopped in the middle of the living area, signalling for her to come and eat.

Arya nodded and opened the tent to wake Sandor. He was fast asleep so she put her boot on his shoulder and shook him lightly with her foot.

Sandor groaned and crawled out the tent to stand. When Arya turned the solider was gone.

“Watch they don’t try and poison us,” Sandor mumbled while rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

They finally got to the long table that was outside under the open sky. The Chief motioned for Arya to sit next to him and Sandor took it upon himself to place himself right beside her. She saw Ryton was already to the exact left hand of the Chief, looking annoyed that they had even showed.

Other villagers sat down as well. All of them were obviously appointed military officials and hands to their leader. Some were men and some were female, which also impressed Arya. It was so rare that women were included in anything, let alone council members. She supposed it shouldn’t be that odd considering they allowed women to fight right next to them men.

Arya’s eyebrows shot up when suddenly several women appeared and without a word moved to sit on some of the men’s laps. It didn’t seem to surprise the men, they just opened their arms expectantly for the women to plop themselves down. Some of the men did not have women sitting on their laps. One of those men was the one who was sent to fetch Arya and Sandor. He was still looking at her hungrily and when she shot him a murderous glare he grinned like a rattlesnake.

“Apparently it is custom for their wives to sit on their laps while eating,” Ryton explained. “They said it has something to do with fertility or something. I couldn’t quite understand that bit.”

“And the men who have no one?” she asked.

“They don’t have wives,” he said. “It’s not exactly wives though. There’s no ceremony or anything like that. They just decide that they are together and that’s that I think.”

Arya bit down on her cheeks to stop herself from smiling. She thought it was funny because It was exactly the way she and Sandor conducted their relationship. However, she did feel Sandor discreetly grip her leg under the table in understanding.

The supper was brought out on what looked to be large rocks substituted for plates by some of the local children. It was a mixture of root vegetables, fish (no doubt caught in the river that run through the town), and various types of odd looking fruit. She noticed that there were no utensils and looked over to the chief and saw that he was eating with his hands. Arya looked up at Sandor and saw that he was annoyed but dug in all the same.

The children then handed the Chief a vase that looked to be made out of the same clay used to build their huts. When he passed it to Arya she nodded her thanks and filled both hers and Sandor’s cups. She sipped on it and realized that it was a sweeter version of the wine they normally drank in Kings Landing. She looked up at Sandor and saw that he was immensely pleased that they created such a concoction.

Arya tried the yellow citrus fruit and her eyes popped wide open. It was delicious and sour with a mixture of sweetness that she loved. She ate the rest of the fruit greedily realizing that she was famished from the long day as well as her fight.

They all ate in silence for the better part of the meal until the Chief pointed his dirty finger at Arya and Sandor and started speaking in his native tongue. His finger was wagging between Arya and Sandor with food flying in every direction. He then pointed to the man that was undressing Arya with his eyes. The same man that had came to their tent earlier and motioned for them to come to supper.

Ryton snickered into his cup before he spoke. “The Chief would like to know if the Captain would like a man while she stays,” he said while wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “Apparently one of his best fighters, Titus, has shown a great interest in you and he wants you in his bed at least once before we leave.”

Arya heard Sandor choke on his wine before his hands turned to fists on the table. “You can tell that old bastard that she is taken, you fucking nit,” Sandor growled.

This time it was Arya’s turn to put her hand on Sandor’s leg. Not in affection, but to keep him from jumping across the table and strangling someone.

While Ryton explained to the Chief what was happening Arya saw Sandor glaring at the man apparently named Titus across the table. Arya elbowed him and gave him a look that she hoped conveyed for him to calm down.

The Chief then looked back and forth between Arya and Sandor completely puzzled before he started speaking again in a rushed fashion. He was also throwing his hands up in the air and looked rather annoyed as he spoke. He then jabbed his finger to Arya and Sandor in annoyance and scoffed and waved them away as if dismissing a servant. 

Arya prepared herself for the worst. She figured it probably upset the man that she and Sandor had such an age gap. She guessed that was abhorrent in every culture at this point.

“The Chief was wondering how he was supposed to know you two were together when you are not even sitting as a proper couple should be. He said he wished you would have done so so he wouldn’t have embarrassed himself like he just did. He said that our culture is so backwards when it comes to matters of the heart. He also said while you are sitting at the table on sacred ground you should have the civility to abide by their rules,” Ryton said a matter of fact.

“What? Does he want me to fuck her on the front lawn just so everyone will know she’s mine?” Sandor scoffed. “Tell him to fuck off.”

“Sandor,” Arya scolded. She sighed heavily and looked at him seriously, wordlessly telling him that he needed to do as the Chief said.

Sandor grunted and lifted his arm off the table and wrapped it around her mid-section, pulling her closer to him. Arya slowly got up and moved to sit on his lap with her legs overhanging his thighs. Is arm wound around her waist to prevent her from falling.

It was uncomfortable to say the least with quite literally having everyone staring at her. They did this in Kings Landing once, but it was at Sandor’s request. Back home it was different. It was because Sandor wanted to make her siblings know that he was serious as well as make Gendry know she was taken. It was for purely practical purposes. Now it was just for some strange tradition that neither of them believed in. She didn’t like being told what to do with her partner and she could tell Sandor didn’t either.

When she was finally perched comfortably she looked directly at the Chief. “Tell him we meant no disrespect. We are still uncertain of their culture and we are hoping to learn even more as long as we are welcome.”

Ryton began translating again and Arya began rubbing Sandor’s back to soothe his irritation. She could see his fist was still clenched on the table.

When their food was taken away the Chief began picking his teeth with his pinky nail and started speaking.

“He wants to know if you are as good a fighter as your woman, Clegane,” Ryton said.

Arya looked up at Sandor and saw him trying not to grin. “Tell him no, I’m better.”

Arya scoffed and elbowed him lightly in the ribs making them both chuckle. He grinned down at her openly teasing so abruptly. She would be lying if she said she didn’t think it was charming. Even if she thought it was inaccurate.

When Ryton told the Chief he, and everyone else at the table (except for Titus) started laughing.

Arya looked over to Titus and saw that he was glowering into his wine. Arya could tell he was annoyed that she rejected his advances. She had no idea why, the women here were gorgeous, tall, and much curvier than she was. If she didn’t have so much trust in Sandor she would being keeping a close eye on him to make sure his eyes didn’t wander.

The Chief chuckled again and took a sip of his wine before pointing back at Sandor.

Ryton sighed and rubbed his head before he spoke. “He said you chose well, Clegane. You and the men in the village are similar. Both hold a woman who can fight at a great value. They find weakness unattractive and vile. Same goes for the women. He says you’re going to have trouble keeping her in your tent at night as all the men are going to try and bed the best female fighter in the far away lands.”

Arya could feel Sandor’s arm tighten around her waist painfully.

Arya spoke before Sandor could say something she would have to modify anyways. “You can tell the Chief they would be wasting their time. I would gut the men before they could lay a hand on me.”

“And if she didn’t, you can expect me to rip out their eyes before I shove my fist down their fucking throat,” Sandor added. 

When Ryton told the Chief what they said he burst out laughing again. He nodded and raised his glass to Arya and Sandor.

“He says that is the proper way a man should act towards his woman. He also said that you both will fit in just fine here,” Ryton said through gritted teeth.

Arya raised her glass in return with Sandor and smiled. She liked that she was getting along with the man. It was apparent the he enjoyed her company and she did his as well. She looked up at Sandor and saw he was trying to bite back a smile at the connection between the three of them.

“Ask him where his wife is on this occasion,” Arya said to Ryton.

When he asked the old man smiled sadly and spoke to Ryton to translate.

“He said she is lost to the ocean. He says when she died of the illness they put her out on a canoe to be with her ancestors. He says the sea lives within her and she need not feel sad anymore for leaving him behind because he will soon join her,” Ryton mumbled softly.

She felt Sandor grip her waist tightly. This time it was not in warning or in a threatening manner. This time it was possessive and lovingly.

When the night ended Arya walked slowly with Sandor to retreat back to their tent. When they passed Titus’s tent he was back to grinning at Arya with that same predatory glare.

This time it didn’t go unnoticed by Sandor and he wrapped his arm around her waist and yanked her flush to his side. He then snarled at him to fuck off while barring his teeth.

“I should put a cleaver through his fucking skull,” Sandor muttered with his hand squeezing her side.

“Don't worry, Sandor,” she said grinning. “He’s far too young for me.”

Sandor burst out laughing and gave her a firm slap to the rump.

“Bitch,” he grumbled. 


	17. Sandor/Ryton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy!

Sandor watched as the young savage tribesmen knocked one of the Northerners to the ground for the second time. He was instantly annoyed that their men were so feeble in protecting themselves. He knew as soon as they left on the voyage that they weren’t nearly as good as he or Arya, but he figured they could at least hold their own in a fight.

Obviously he was mistaken.

They had been here for almost three weeks and although his men were fighting better than they once were, they were still no where near the skill of the local tribe hosting them during their stay.

Arya was off doing Gods knows what in learning the ways of the people. She was doing this almost everyday. The only time he really ever got to see her was when she lay her head down to sleep at night and sometimes during meals. Although, he never _really_ got to speak with her during those mealtimes because they were always having dinner with the blasted Chief. Although, he did enjoy that she sat on his lap every time they ate. And although she would never admit it, he knew she could feel his growing arousal as the meal went on.

Sandor recognized that this was her work and she was passionate about it, but he wished she had a little more time to rest.

He also knew that since they got here they both had to have their guard up constantly. So that meant sleeping fully clothed with their weapons at the ready in their tent. It also meant they hadn’t fucked since the last time on the boat and he was getting more and more agitated about it as they days wore on. He had to spend the last few weeks stroking himself to completion and fantasizing about a very naked Arya touching herself in the waterfall, beckoning at him to come and join her. When he would finish it was always disappointing as it felt like nothing in comparison to being buried deep in her tight little body.

When the Northerner got knocked down a third time Sandor decided it was his turn to step in. When he volunteered to be the next contestant he saw Titus walk haughtily into the ring. This was the same man that wanted to bed his wolf-bitch.

He rarely, if ever, questioned Arya’s loyalty to him. Especially after the Gendry incident. But this man seemed different. He was a warrior, closer to Arya in age, and his face wasn’t burned like Sandor’s. To Sandor it seemed like the more savage the man, the more Arya liked him. That’s why they got along so well. But to Sandor this man was a threat to their bond. Sandor knew she valued things like fidelity and loyalty, but he always was waiting for this moment. The moment where they would come across someone that was truly better for Arya than he was.

Sandor would never let her go, not now or ever really. If this man somehow swept her off her feet and made her stay on the Islands, then he would stay too. Even if she didn’t want him again he would stay. He would stay so he could wait for the cocky little shit to fuck up so he could take her away at any given moment. He would never leave her now. Even if she asked he would always wait in the wings to make sure she was safe and happy until his last breath.

Titus swung his staff in preparation for their fight. He twirled and twisted with the agility of a young man, which he was. Sandor was not agile, not even when he was young. But he was good with any weapon and he wanted to beat this idiot into the ground.

Right when they were about to begin he heard the unmistakeable sound of Arya yelling his name.

He turned quickly and saw she was walking with the Chief and Ryton. Arya was looking at him in warning and quickly walked ahead of the two men so she could reach him first.

“We can’t stay if you murder his best fighter,” she whispered so low even he had to bend down to hear it.

Sandor snorted and threw the stick to Burney who fumbled with it between his hands before it hit the ground.

“He wants you,” Sandor said at full volume, not a care in the world who heard him, “And I don’t share well.”

Arya sighed and took his belt into her tiny hand and pulled him close. “Leave him be,” she said before dodging a kiss he tried to bestow upon her.

It had been almost an entire month since he saw her naked and it was driving him mad. They went from fucking four to five times a week to absolutely nothing at all. He heard Arya say a few days ago that they might stay for another month. It was insanity to think that they could continue not touching each other for that long. The only time they ever touched was in the prvacy in their tent, and even that was just a few mild kisses and heavy petting. Not that the Chief seemed to care about fondling in public. Sandor was under the impression he thought they were an odd couple as they touched each other so seldom.

The men here were a little more open with their affections with their women. For instance, it was completely normal to see a man to openly gawk at another man’s woman and ask her to be with him instead of the man she was already with. If she wanted she could demand that the men fight for her affections and whoever would win would be the man she chose. The same went for the women if they wanted a different man. It was also not uncommon to see a man and his woman kiss each other feverishly for the entire village to see, and then for the man to snatch her hand and tow her away to fuck her in some crop or a hut, if they even made it that far. One time he saw a man just haul his woman into the tall grass, their nakedness barely even being shielded. Sandor saw it happen multiple times and when he ogled the couple for being so outward with their affections, the other tribesmen thought it was _Sandor_ that was the strange one. 

“Shaanseu aen nom,” the Chief said while pointing between Arya and Sandor. “Maaka kiiya kanawayhta sa praan chi-ayaahk miyeuhtayn.”

“He says you are a lucky man, Clegane,” Ryton said. “He says it’s a good thing you keep her so happy otherwise many men would be offering themselves to her.”

“You tell that old shit that I am perfectly fine at pleasing my woman,” Sandor snapped. “Tell him in our world it is inappropriate for a Captain to be falling all over her man during significant times such as these.” Sandor then took a step closer so he towered over the idiotic Navigator. “You can also tell him how many times you heard my wolf-bitch scream in my sheets while you were aboard the ship, then perhaps he, and anyone else asking, will realize how satisfied I really do keep her.”

Arya grabbed his arm and yanked him back glaring at him for speaking in such callous terms right in front of her. But Sandor couldn’t find it in him to care. 

When Ryton finished translating the Chief laughed and snickered something to Sandor.

“He says that since he now understands your culture, he also now understands your woman’s anger in speaking of such things in front of her men.”

Sandor grinned down at her and in return she punched him on the arm before turning and walking towards Burney. She seized the staff that he was holding and threw it to Sandor for which he caught easily. She then snatched the staff from Titus and then raised a challenging eyebrow at Sandor, waiting for him to step into the ring.

Sandor grinned and did just that, it had been months since they practised fighting together and he was immeasurably eager. He enjoyed seeing her playful side as she elegantly dodged and dipped away from his attempted strikes. It was actually one of things he enjoyed doing most with her. Hells, it was the most fun he had in a long time when he was able to joust with her.

When he moved to strike her in the ribs she rolled out of the way and her stick jutted out and stopped centimeters away from his face, making her take the point. He quickly turned and put his foot behind her legs and shoved her to the ground in an old move he taught her on the ship that she apparently wasn’t anticipating. They continued their fighting for the better part of an hour, her taking a point and he taking his, he would never intentionally hit her, but sometimes when his staff would accidently make contact with her skin his eyes went wide and she would always laugh it off, telling him he got lucky.

Sandor could feel the Chief and Titus’ eyes on them as they moved around the circle like an old dance they had memorized. He knew Titus was seething that Sandor was the only person in this world that could make her smile like that.

It wasn’t until Sandor had knocked the staff clean out of Arya’s hands where her smile dropped. Sandor chuckled when she ducked under his staff and lunged at him sending them both plummeting to the ground. When they rolled he braced himself on his hands and knees so not to crush her tiny body. He was hovering over her, his face inches away from hers, both of them panting, and broad smiles plastered across each other’s face.

“This remind you of anything?” Sandor asked lowly in regards to how their body’s were positioned. His lips inches away from her ear. He normally was opposed to so much public displays of affection, but since it was so long since he’d really been with her he was willing to take anything he could get at this point.

Arya laughed and started pushing his chest. When he didn’t move she huffed and he saw the red creeping up her ears.

“Get off,” she said squirming under his body and trying not to smile.

He grinned and restrained himself from kissing her. He got up and held out his hand to help her up onto her feet which she accepted easily. Sandor was almost embarrassed how good it felt to feel her tiny fingers clutch his own larger hands.

**XXXX**

Ryton watched his two commanders spoke in hushed whispers as they left the circle to wash before dinner. To everyone else it seemed as though she was a cold little bitch, and he was hard man that was vexed by everything in sight. Half the men thought they were only fucking and had no other feelings towards each other at all. The other half thought they were a powerful couple that could rule the seas as they were so strong and worked so well together. He knew everyone in her little army were completely oblivious as to how they really acted towards each other. 

The only reason he knew their love to be true was because he would follow them around and try to listen to their muted murmurs. They were always so careful in public, rarely touching or talking, hells, he only saw them kiss once in the six months they were out at sea and that was when they found the Lost Islands.

When Ryton was a boy he was always told he would be a great Captain. He would sit on his father’s lap while out to sea and he would be told of the great riches he would receive. He never knew his mother so his father deemed it appropriate that he was raised on the ship he was Captaining. Ryton loved every minute on the water. He loved the smell of the saltwater, the air on his face, he even loved the violent rocking of a ship when caught in a storm. He thrived on it.

When he was a boy he met the young man from Lost Islands floating on some dingy in the middle of the Narrow Sea. The boy was half dead and starving but Ryton insisted he be brought to the top deck. When he first learned from the unnamed boy that he was from the Lost Islands, Ryton was fascinated. He always wanted to Captain a great voyage and this was just the ticket he needed.

His father found the whole story distasteful and childish. He hated the idea of his only son leaving on a voyage to no where, but he just knew there was no way this boy could’ve been lying.

For thirty days and night Ryton tended to this boy on hand and foot, trying to nurse him back to health. During that time, he learned the culture, the language, everything he could ask while the boy was awake. The boy did not make it in the end and Ryton cursed himself for not getting further details on the location of said islands. He only knew a general direction and a few land marks to pass, besides that, it was still a mystery.

When Ryton was much older and he heard the Starks were splitting up and taking the Seven Kingdoms, he could not care less. He thought they were noble enough, and they still could not control the seas even if they tried.

Then when he received a raven saying that Lady Arya was looking for new recruits to sail west of Westross he practically jumped for joy. He was ecstatic beyond anything comprehensible. Here he was, a seasoned veteran of sailing, no doubt the little lady would give him the Captaining position. He was experienced and knew more about the Lost Islands than any other Captain.

However, when he was accepted as a Navigator his heart sunk. He took the position anyways, but he was flabbergasted to say the least.

 _Who in Seven Hells could possibly be more qualified than I?_ he thought.

He still remembered the complete and utter dismay he experienced when he heard the young Stark girl was going to be first Captain and the Hound to be her Second in Command.

He thought the girl was only commanding that a voyage be made! Not that she would Captain the bloody thing! And the Hound? The fucking _Hound_? In what way were either of them qualified?

The two were the most unqualified and inexpert people he’d ever heard of. He hated the idea that she was just handed this great honor because she was born into it meanwhile he had to work his entire life to get to where he was. And the Hound? He was a guard dog, not a sailor. He was only aboard a ship twice in his life for Mothers sake!

As Ryton made his way back to his tent he saw Titus sulking near an open fire. Ryton looked left and right and when he realized they were alone he walked over to the young man, speaking in their native tongue.

 _“Titus! Good to see you!”_ Ryton said sitting next to him on the log he was occupying.

 _“What do you want, pale face?”_ Titus asked suspiciously.

Ryton grinned and leaned forward. _“Your Chief tells us that you are seeking the bed of our leader?”_

_“I cannot take that what does not belong to me,”_ said Titus. _“She belongs to the big burned man. Until she asks for me to fight for her I cannot do anything.”_

Ryton grinned from ear to ear. _“And what if the big burned man was not around anymore? Would you be able to take her then?”_

 _“No,”_ Titus said. _“She has to choose me. I cannot take her by force. It is not our way.”_

Ryton began idly stoking the fire with a long stick he found from the ground. “ _And what about prisoners? Can you take them as your partner by forc_ e?”

 _“What do you mean?”_ asked Titus suddenly looking very intrigued as to what he had to say.

Ryton yawned and stretched in fake boredom. _“What if my leader was imprisoned for something? What are your laws on taking a woman held captive?”_

Titus’ eyes widened and then a slow smile spread across his face.

_“The man arresting the prisoner can do what they want to any prisoner before trial. Including taking her by force.”_

Ryton grinned and told Titus the scheme he had planned over the last six months. 


	18. Arya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some smut and fluff to prepare for future events..... I may be killing some peeps soon.... 
> 
> ....

Arya and Sandor were lounging in their tent after supper. It was a long day of talking and training with the men and she was exhausted. She was lying on her belly with Sandor next to her on his back drinking the strange wine the tribesmen had brewed.

The night air was still because the fortress of the mountain they were enclosed in was shielding the village from the cold breeze. The stars were twinkling brightly above them with a hue of blue casting over their tent from the full moon.

Arya felt Sandor bunch her sark up with his fist and tug it upwards to expose her bare back. He placed his hand on her skin and began to rub it up and down, lifting the sark further and further up to her back.

“What’re you doing?” she asked sleepily.

She felt Sandor shift to his side to face her before he spoke. “I want you,” he mumbled before he placed his lips on her exposed back.

Arya felt herself smile. She knew these last couple weeks were difficult for him. He was used to being able to have her whenever he wanted and now he was robbed of it. She also found herself getting more annoyed quicker throughout the last few weeks. She was used to being loved by her mate many times over throughout the course of a week, and now she only received the occasional kiss and back rub. But they needed to be ready in case the tribe turned on them. She thought she knew them well enough, but she still didn’t trust them completely.

“Sandor,” she murmured. “We can’t…”

Sandor grunted against her back and then rolled her over clumsily with his big hand making Arya wince at his roughness. He was still getting used to being gentle with her and while most times he was quite good at it; others he was still just as big an ape as he was when Arya first met him.

When Arya was on her back looking up at him she saw his big brown eyes scanning up and down her body hungrily.

“I can be quick and we’ve been quiet before,” he said placing a hand under her shirt and on her bare belly.

She sighed and caressed the burned side of his face. “What if we’re attacked?”

Sandor rolled his eyes before answering. “It’s been a month, sweetling. If they were going to kill us they would’ve done it already.”

“They’ll hear us,” she said a little breathlessly. His forefinger began tracing tiny circles on around one of the many scars that littered her body.

Sandor groaned and ripped his hand away from her impatiently. “Then we can go to the crops and have a tumble. I don’t care as long as I can have you. It’s been way too long and my cock is getting tired of my fucking hand.”

Arya thought about it carefully. She did want him too, that was undeniable. But she just didn’t want to risk his or her own safety. He meant so much to her now and she didn’t know what she would do if he was killed over something stupid like wanting to get into her breeches.

“Arya,” he said edgily.

When she looked up at him she could see he was annoyed and impatient with her answer. He wanted her right now and she so rarely told him no because she always wanted him too. Including right now.

“All right,” she said finally. But when he started to tug at her clothes she slapped his hands away from her making him grunt un annoyance. “Not here, my love,” she said giving him a quick kiss.

Sandor moved to stand to get out of the tent and Arya followed. When they were under the stars Sandor grabbed Arya’s hand and began towing her roughly towards the town waterfall West of the living area.

“No one will see us behind the falls,” he whispered quickly.

Arya’s eyes went wide as she caught on to his meaning. “In _there_? _In_ the waterfall? Are you sure? Maybe we should go to the fields, that way for sure no one will see us.”

Sandor didn’t stop towing her to where he wanted. She nearly had to jog to keep up to his long, determined strides.

“No,” he almost barked. “I’ve been dreaming of spreading your legs in that thing since we got here.”

Arya slapped her hand over her mouth to stop her giggling. “Are you serious?”

Sandor didn’t answer. He just kept yanking her by the hand until they reached the edge of the cascade. It took long enough as it was about three kilometers away from the basic living grounds. She still couldn’t believe how expansive the town was.

“Clothes off, _now_ ,” he demanded whipping around to face her.

Arya looked around the camp shyly. They were so far away from the living area that it would be difficult for anyone to see her properly unless they were purposefully looking. Her eyes darted everywhere that she could, but she couldn’t see a living soul anywhere to observe her nakedness.

“I’m not sure about this, Sandor,” she said somewhat timidly. “Someone might see us.”

Sandor groaned and gripped her hips. “No one will see; no one is awake. Besides, we’ll be naked behind the waterfall. And any sight or sound we do give out will be muffled by the water.”

Arya bit her lip and did a final scan of the town around them. When she looked back up at Sandor she saw he had an almost pained expression across his face. She could feel his hands trembling on her hips and she couldn’t help but scoff at his neediness. She had never seen him so pent up as he was now. He was practically bouncing where he stood in anticipation.

Arya let a slow smile spread across her lips and she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck in defeat. Sandor had to bend down so she could reach and he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her completely off the ground. Arya squeaked under his lips and she was instantly aroused. She caressed the good side of his face lovingly.

He opened her mouth with his tongue and took over the kiss. Arya felt her eyes roll into the back of her head as his tongue slid around the tip of her own. He then ran the tip of his tongue along the roof of her mouth slowly and delicately. Arya moaned into the kiss and rammed her tongue into his mouth in desperate need.

When she felt that she couldn’t breath any longer she pulled away only for him to chase her lips while pulling her hips closer to his in need. When she still retreated from his mouth he finally relented and put her down. Arya knew her face was flushed and she was breathing much more raggedly than normal.

She quickly began unlacing her breeches and undoing her tunic and sark. They made haste with their clothing and when Arya was fully naked in the moonlight she quickly put her forearms against her breasts with her fists tucked under her chin.

The moon was bright enough that she knew her body was completely illuminated under the blue moon. Her eyes darted left and right nervously to see if anyone was watching them. Right when she was contemplating putting her clothes back on and telling Sandor no, she was roughly turned to face a very bare Sandor.

Sandor grabbed one of her hands that was covering her nakedness and towed her to the edge of the water. She kept herself bolted to his side to cover naked body just in case anyone saw. When she waded in the water she hissed as the chill engulfed her body. She continued walking through the water until she couldn’t touch the bottom anymore. When the water was too deep for her to continue walking Sandor pulled her towards him so she could wrap her arms and legs around his front as he continued to walk. She gasped when he walked through the sheet of falling water, completely drenching their bodies.

When they entered the cave behind the falling water she saw there were several spots for them to lay that were about at her level for Sandor plop her down. There were several rocks and boulders on the sides of the cave as Sandor walked deeper and deeper into the crevasse. She kissed him feverishly and she felt her nipples harden as they pressed against the wild bramble of his chest hair.

“Fucking hells,” she whimpered as he began nipping at her neck. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Sandor grunted in agreement and finally stopped when he found a rock at the right angle that he could sit her on. She winced at the uncomfortable hardness of the stone but otherwise ignored it. She didn’t need to feel comfortable right now, she just needed to feel her lover.

They kissed in a wild desperation, she felt her teeth clank against his, she felt his rough beard scratch around her mouth painfully and she loved every minute.

“Sandor,” she moaned.

She let her hand slide down underwater to caress his manhood. When she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock he sagged against her body with his face buried into the crook of her neck.

She continued to touch his hard member until he gently laced his fingers with his own and pulled her hand away.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to fuck you more than I do right now,” he breathed. “Been a long time.”

He let his hand slide to the folds between her legs and circled his finger around her sensitive nub making her moan.

He pressed his forehead against hers and she looked deeply into his eyes. She clutched his large shoulders and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“Me too,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I kept you in waiting so long, my love.”

Sandor closed his eyes and removed his hand from her wet centre. He then knowingly placed his fingers by her lips and she grabbed his hand and sucked herself off his fingers. She knew more than anyone how much he enjoyed that. Although to most it would seem like she was the dominant one in the relationship, with her ordering him around left and right throughout the day, but to the both of them, they knew she would always submit to her hound in the confines of their bed.

She lay back on the uncomfortable rocks and spread her legs as wide as they would go for him.

“Make love to me,” she breathed.

Sandor’s eyes darkened and he gripped her hips under her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the rock. He stepped forward and rather than claiming her like she thought he would, he lowered his head in between her legs.

Sandor’s eyes glowed like a cat’s in the darkness of the cave. He was watching her as he let his finger caress her folds lightly making her mewl and squirm on the uncomfortable hard surface. He continued stroking her up and down with feather light touches and gentle kisses to her inner thighs. He then moved forward and licked her slit touching the insides of her folds more deeply.

She pressed her palm to her mouth to muffle her loud moan. She then felt his forefinger push inside her deeply and his tongue made circles around her sensitive nub. She moaned and tried to keep herself from squirming but it was growing difficult. He wrapped his arm over her belly to keep her still as his head swopped down and began to suck on her most intimate parts.

She was wriggling and moaning when he stood tall looking down at her exposed body. She felt his hands slide from her core, up her belly and lightly squeeze her breasts. When he grunted in satisfaction she sat up and started to get off the rock and into the water with him.

“Sit,” she said a little breathlessly.

He raised a brow at her and she pulled him down for a hard kiss.

“Let me take care of you, tonight,” she whispered against his lips. “You belong to me and I want to please you.”

Sandor grunted and sat down on the spot where she was just sitting. She spread his legs apart and with no hesitation, she wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock and took him into her mouth fully. She began bobbing her head up and down his thick shaft, her only goal to please him. She felt his hands weave into her wet hair and he restrained her a little, forcing her to slow down.

“Calm yourself, sweetling,” he muttered lowly. “We have all night.”

While she continued to leisurely bob her head up and down she heard Sandor swear under his breath and lift her off of him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up so he could kiss her again. Arya wrapped her arms around his neck and he turned them so he could sit her back on the stone. She grabbed his face between her hands and sucked on his bottom lip making him groan. Arya let her hands roam over his abdomen and arms, he let his hands fondle her breasts and back. For a while they just felt each other as though it was the first time doing so. It had been so long she was almost shy at being so exposed to him again.

She peered up at him holding his ribs with him standing in between her legs. She saw the moonlight shining through the water and his face was lit beautifully. Shadows danced around his body showing the lines of his muscles in a most appealing way.

“So handsome,” she said wrapping her arms around his ribs and pulling him close to her body.

Sandor harrumphed and wrapped his arms around her as well and let her lay her cheek on his sternum. She felt his uneven heartbeats thump loudly in her ear before she leaned in a kissed his ribs.

“Take me,” she said looking up at him pleadingly. “I miss you and want you, right now.”

Sandor nodded seriously and gently pushed her to lay on her back with her legs spread wide open. She wasn’t used to being in such a vulnerable position but for some reason she wasn’t embarrassed by it anymore. Not even a little. She was happy to expose herself to her mate. The mate that fought for her until his last breath only to be reborn and follow her to the ends of the earth. It was the same mate that would defend her and stand by her side even through the roughest of times. This was her mate. And she was more than happy to be claimed by him.

When he entered her he did is with flawless tenderness. He gently gripped the insides of her thighs and pushed them further apart as he slid in and out of her slowly.

The water was splashing everywhere but neither lover seemed to care. The only sounds were her moaning and his grunts mixed with the water crashing down from the waterfall behind them. They were both soaked head to toe with the clear salty water and their bodies reflected the moonlight.

When he started to go a little faster he quickly lifted her legs so her ankles rested on his shoulders to get a better angle. She moaned again and let her head fall back. Her hands began to fondle her own breasts before one hand slid down her belly to touch herself while he continued his maddening slow pace.

“So beautiful,” he whispered.

Arya moved her legs to wrap around his hips again and sat up. She wrapped one arm around his neck and the other to the stone she was sitting on so she could meet each one of his thrusts.

He pressed his forehead against her own and she could feel his breath feeding her own. “Open your eyes, sweetling,” he choked out. “I want to see you.”

Arya opened her eyes to see his soft brown eyes gazing at her tenderly. “Take me, my love,” she repeated against his lips. “You will be the only one to ever take me like this.”

She heard Sandor groan in response and press a firm kiss against her lips. Arya felt herself teetering over the edge of her climax and when he bit her on the bottom lip he pushed her over the final wave. She felt herself crashing into her orgasm like a sword to a shield. She cried out his name and tried her best to continue to meet each of his thrusts so he could experience the same pleasure she did. When she heard him groan she felt his seed spill inside her as he gave his last three thrusts. He slapped his hand on the cold, wet stone she was sitting on, splattering water everywhere.

He collapsed forward breathing in gasps while growls ripped from his chest. Arya kept her legs wrapped around him and smoothed her palm over his messy wet hair. When he tried to pull his cock out from her body she tightened her thighs around his ribs to prevent him from doing so. His smile was dazzling when she did that.

He leaned down and placed a lazy kiss on her lips for which she responded enthusiastically. He then buried his head in the crook of her neck, just lying there with his softening cock twitching inside of her body. She hummed and let them just lie there, completely content to be held in each others arms.

When he finally pulled out he lifted her up under the arms and pulled her into the water. She wrapped her arms and legs back around him and let him wade deeper into the still pond behind the waterfall.

They bobbed in the water as she covered his face with soft kisses lovingly. She kissed his forehead, his temples, his eye lids, everything. She wanted him to know how much she loved him just through those kisses. She heard the quiet growling coming from his chest as she did so. His hands squeezed the backs of her bare thighs and she smiled when she pulled away to look at him.

“I love you,” she said with her eyes inches away from his own.

Sandor bumped his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. “Aye,” he murmured.

She laughed at his non-committal response and gave him a chaste kiss.

He waded deeper into the water with her latched onto him like a monkey. He pressed his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her in for another deep kiss. He spun them around so they could look at the waterfall that cascaded down like a curtain to cover their loving affections.

She rested her head on his shoulder and let her hand caress the burnt side of his face. He leaned into her hand and gave her palm a kiss. 

“I still don’t know how it doesn’t repulse you,” he muttered.

“How what doesn’t repulse me?” she asked lifting her head to get a good look at him.

“My face, what else?” he mumbled.

Arya smiled at him and pressed a kiss to the mangled skin of his cheek. “Your face will has never bothered me. Even when I was a child. You know that. If anything I find it pleasing to look at while you’re sleeping next to me.”

Sandor grunted in skepticism but didn’t bring it up further. He just continued to sway them slowly in the water, letting their sore muscles be relaxed by the coolness of the water.

For a while they stayed there, just being with one another was a delight for her. She could tell he was happy because his cheek was pressed to her shoulder and she could hear the occasional growling rumble in his chest.

Arya buried her head into the crook of his neck and felt tears prick her eyes at how happy she was, here, with the man she loved and living her dream of finding the unknown lands. When she sniffed she felt Sandor freeze under her and yank his head back to get a good look at her.

His eyes were covered with worry and concern, clearly having thought he did something wrong.

Arya shook her head and smiled at him. “Happy tears,” she whispered somewhat ashamed.

Sandor nuzzled his face in her neck and kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear. He supported one hand under her bottom and the other hand behind her neck.

“You do realize if we get caught in here the men will never let us live it down,” she said after a few minutes of them holding each other.

Sandor nodded and began walking back to the mouth of the waterfall. When they emerged Arya’s eyes darted around the camp to see if anyone was around. She latched onto him tighter to shield her nakedness against his body in case any prying eyes were looking in their direction. 

“Relax, girl,” he muttered. “There’s no one here to see you.”

“You can’t know that.”

Sandor snorted and nodded towards the tents. “Look’it, girl. There’s not a soul in sight. And as much as I like you strapped onto me like you are now, you’re cutting off my breathing.”

Arya jumped in his arms and realized she was squeezing him around the neck too hard.

“Sorry,” she breathed.

Sandor dropped her to where she could touch and patted her bottom in telling her to climb up the bank to get their clothes. They both dressed quickly and he slung his arm around her shoulders and yanked her close to his side to keep her warm. She in turn wrapped her arm around his waist happily. She enjoyed not having constant prying eyes to judge them. They could just be… them.

When they reached their tent Arya saw something move in the distance. She squinted and realized she saw Ryton and Titus next to the corn field talking in hushed whispers.

She grabbed Sandor’s hand and yanked him to hide behind a nearby tent.

“Sandor!” she hissed. “Look!”

Sandor glared at the two men speaking. She could see that cold and calculated look anywhere and she knew he wanted to kill them.

“I don’t like it,” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t like it one bit”

“What do you want to do?” Arya whispered.

“You learned the language completely yet?” Sandor asked.

Arya shook her head. “I can hold a conversation, but it’s difficult. I would need a few more weeks to be proficient. Or…”

“Or what?” Sandor snapped.

“Or I could wear a tribesmen’s face.”

Sandor glared at her. She knew he hated that she could do that now. She showed him when they were traveling to Kings Landing and he told her if she ever did it again he would throttle her. That was of course before they realized they were in love with each other, but she still knew he thought it was witchcraft that shouldn’t be trifled with.

“Tomorrow,” Sandor said heatedly. “Tomorrow we tell the Chief. I would rather we say it to him with shitty pronunciation than getting murdered by those two idiots.”

.....


	19. Burney

Burney was up before anyone else was. It was force of habit from being employed under the Starks for so long. He was always up before anyone else so he could finish fix anything the Starks needed to be done. The other repairmen would always leave all the grunt work for him anyways.

Now, he spent his mornings inspecting the ship and making sure the Captain was aware of anything that needed fixing. She was always in tune with her people and always knew the priority in which things should take.

Burney would be lying if he said he didn’t admire the young Captain. He would never admit it, but he also fancied her even if she did scare him. Actually, what scared him more was her lover. The Hound was known for his incredibly short temper, but he saw it first hand on the boat. Always barking and yelling at people to do their job at a higher proficiency.

He never really yelled at Burney though. He always seemed to take whatever problem he said seriously and relay it to the Captain. It was almost always dealt with immediately after. He liked that the Captain respected his opinion. He found himself growing fonder and fonder of the old dog. Once one got over his foul mouth and glares to everything in sight, he was actually quite amusing to be around. The snide jokes and insults he muttered at everyone always had Burney in stitches. Clegane also showed him how to fight better. He never made fun of him as everyone else did, he would just tell him to get back up and attack again until he got it right. When they were finished fighting Clegane would clap him on the back and tell him what he needed to work on and what he thought was good.

For Burney’s entire life was just taken as a joke. When he’d be in the tavern all the men would just make fun of him for his weight and stature. Here he was, a man that could fix anything they threw at him, but still they thought he was just a thing they could laugh at. Like a court jester of some kind rather than a professional craftsman. Women were completely uninterested in him at all. Anytime he tried to speak to one they would role their eyes or ask him if he could get him to speak to his more handsome colleagues. He never even kissed a woman much less had one in his bed yet. And he was well passed being ten and nine!

Truth be told he never felt wanted or really needed before in his life. After his father died he just wanted to start over from the life he had. When he heard Lady Arya was going to be conducting a voyage he signed up as soon as he could. He hated the life he had and wanted a new one. At least then he would be able to come back to Kings Landing and say that his life was worth something. When he came aborad the ship he was shocked that he was so useful. People came to him and asked him to do things that no one else aboard could do. He loved that he was so needed. Not only that, but he seemed to make friends. The Captain and Clegane. It was an odd group to be friends with, but he was happy nonetheless.

Burney was up early because he needed to speak to the Captain straight away. He had been reporting to her all the happenings with Ryton, but he was sneakier than Captain Stark gave him credit for. Burney had a horrible time trying to follow him around. He would duck around and tree and when Burney went to follow, it was as though he’d vanished.

But last night he saw Ryton and the warrior named Titus talking to one another. When Burney ducked behind their tent to overhear what they were saying, he only caught the tail end of the conversation. And he couldn’t even understand it! He did hear them laughing manically and hug when they stopped talking. He thought that in and of itself was odd as Titus was known to hate the ‘pale-faces.’ Burney also followed Ryton to his tent and heard him muttering some things he needed to tell the Captain straight away.

He knew Ryton was planning something. He just didn’t know what. Burney saw the way Titus looked at the Captain. He also saw the way Clegane reacted when the Chief suggested that she would be suited with a much fiercer partner from the tribe rather than with her current mate.

When Burney made his way to the Captain he saw that she was warming her hands by the ambers of their fire from the previous night. Clegane had his back to her a few steps away and was taking a piss.

Burney would never get over the fact that a highborn was so comfortable with a bunch of smelly men behaving in such a way. His cheeks burned at the thought of Lady Sansa being put in such a situation. She was a true Lady; the Captain was definitely not.

“Captain,” Burney said with a slight bow.

“How many times have I told you, Burney?” she said looking up at him with annoyance. “You don’t have to bow or do any of that shit.”

“S – Sorry Captain,” Burney said quickly.

Arya yawned loudly and looked up at him in expectation. “What can I do for you Burney?”

“I – I heard Ryton and Titus speaking last night,” he whispered lowly so no one would hear him.

Arya patted the spot next to her for him to come and sit next to her. When he sat he saw Arya turn her entire body towards him with her full undivided attention. He looked up at Clegane who had finished pissing and was watching him with his arms folded across his chest, also waiting.

“He – He was speaking with Titus last night and I couldn’t understand what they were saying, they seemed quite chummy. Then they hugged and I followed Ryton back to his tent.”

“Did anyone see you?” Clegane asked.

Burney shook his head quickly. “No, I – I don’t think so. But then I heard Ryton talking to himself in his tent. He was saying that it was only a few more days until he was Captain. He was muttering something about not having some cunt tell him what to do. Something about bringing happiness and pride to his family name for finding the Lost Islands on his own. He said he would prove his father wrong once and for all.”

Clegane and Arya exchanged heated glances and Arya put a hand on Burney’s shoulder.

“Good work, Burney. Truly, you are an invaluable addition to my crew. Now go and eat. We have a long day ahead of us.”

Burney beamed at the young Captain and then looked up at Clegane. He nodded his acceptance of Arya’s words and Burney jumped up from his seat, ecstatic that he did good.

“Do – Do you think they will try anything?” Burney asked her quietly.

“We don’t know,” Sandor said. “But if they do we want you to get every man off this bloody island and into the ship. If we have a mutiny, it’s better that we have less loyal men for them to slaughter if they refuse his new leadership.”

Burney nodded quickly and got up to leave their camp and find some food. He was shocked to find that Ryton was with the rest of the men. He usually sat with the Chief and all the other higher ups. Burney sat at his usual corner table with a few of the other men he had grown quite fond of.

“The fuck’s that little weasel sitting here for?” one of the men asked him nodding towards Ryton.

Burney shrugged. “Dunno. He’s been acting odd lately.”

One of the men who was missing an eye laughed once. “Aye, he’s probably planning a mutiny of some kind or another.”

“Has he spoke to you about it?’ Burney asked.

The man shook his head. “Nope. But he’s the kind that will. No doubt if he gets enough followers he’ll gain control of the whole lot of us. Would be fucking awful though. I don’t like following orders from a woman any more than the rest of you do, but the Captain is especially good at it. Her dog is good as well to make sure fuckers don’t slack off,” he took a sip from his water before he spoke again. “Even if she is a woman, I’d take her over that skinny little shit, or any of us, any day. You hear she killed over one hundred white walkers by herself?”

The men went into a talking frenzy about the bloody white walkers yet again. Burney had heard it all before. Probably a hundred times over. That seemed to be all they ever really wanted to talk about over the last six months.

Suddenly he heard a blood curdling scream from one of the tribeswomen in the far distance.

All the men jumped with their swords at the ready and ran to the sound.

They saw the Chief lying on the ground with his face purple and his eyes bloodshot. Arya was supporting his head with Sandor knelt by her side looking just as panicked as she did. The man was clearly dead and Arya was looking around trying to find someone to help.

They suddenly heard yelling from several tribesmen while pointing fingers in every direction, some at Arya, some at all the Northerners, and some in the direction of Clegane.

Ryton stepped forward and jabbed his finger at Arya and Clegane and began speaking in their native tongue. Arya’s face dropped and she gently placed the Chief on the ground so she could move to stand.

“He’s tell them we’re responsible!” Arya yelled. “He’s telling them we are the ones that planned the Chief’s death!”

Suddenly one of the chief’s soldiers grabbed Arya from behind causing her to flip him over her tiny body and onto his back. She then quickly unsheathed her small sword and pointed it in the direction of her attacked.

“We are not your enemy!” She said angrily.

Sandor unsheathed his sword as well, but was grabbed by three men from behind, prying the sword from his thick fingers.

“Arya! Run!” he snarled.

“Get off of him!” she yelled jumping on Clegane’s arm and wresting their arms off her lover.

Suddenly three more tribesmen grabbed Arya by her hands and feet while she kicked and screamed trying to get them to release her. The man holding her head in a chokehold was none other than Titus.

Burney saw Titus lean into her ear and whisper something in his native tongue which made Arya scream out profanities and stomp her foot into his own. Titus cried out in pain but ordered two more soldiers to apparently grab her legs to keep her from hurting him again.

“Let go of her, you miserable cunts! We didn’t do anything!” Clegane yelled.

“Sandor!” she also screamed trying to get to him.

Suddenly he turned to Burney in a panic. “Burney! Get them out of here! Now! Run you fucking moron! Run!”

Burney looked at Arya struggling to get out of the men’s hold as well as Sandor trying to get to Arya. Burney panicked for half a second before he screamed at everyone to get back to the ship.

Arrows and spears were flying in their direction from the tribesmen and women. One of the men had his spear at the ready and was directly in front of Burney. He held his sword with a shaking grip, wondering how quickly this man would cut him down. When the man raised his spear over his head, Burney remembered what Clegane taught him.

 _Look for his weakness and take it as soon as you can. Never wait in a fight, there is only analyzation and reaction,_ he remembered Clegane telling him.

He saw the man’s torso was completely unarmed. Burney quickly jabbed his sword into the ribs of the man whose arm was overstretched his head. The soldier fell backwards clutching his side and fell to the ground, dead. Had he not been so preoccupied with the hailstorm of spears and arrows, he would have patted himself on the back with his accomplishment.

Burney ducked behind a nearby hut and watched to see what was happening with his Captain. He watched in horror as one of the men took a large club and wacked her over the head roughly making her hair fly in every direction. He saw the Captain’s head slump forward and was clearly knocked out, completely unconscious. He saw blood begin to spill out her mouth and onto the grass.

“Arya!” Sandor screamed. He tried wrenching his arms away from her but now he had three men on either side of him, struggling to keep him still. “You fucking savages, I will strangle you with you with your own guts! I’ll fucking rape you with my sword! Let her fucking go!”

Burney was still as he watched Clegane struggle and try to rip himself away from them. When he looked up, Burney saw true fear for the first time in the big man’s eyes.

“Burney, get the fuck out of here now! Get to the fucking ship!”

Burney stuttered and response and then bolted to the ship as fast he could. He knew he needed to help, he just didn’t know how.

Burney turned to the left and saw Ryton glaring daggers at him. Not one of Arya’s soldiers joined him in his mutiny.

 _At least we have the loyalty of our men_ , he thought wistfully.

The last thing he saw was the Hound being dragged while he struggled in the arms of over five men. The Captain was thrown over the shoulder of a whistling Titus with her arms swaying as he walked. She was knocked out cold and Burney was uncertain if there was anything he could do to help her.


	20. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just pumping these out for a read over the weekend!
> 
> Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> bebe
> 
> .....

Sandor woke with a foggy head and the sounds of chains rattling together. He groaned and realized that someone, probably Ryton, had clubbed him over the head while he was trying to get to Arya.

 _Arya_.

He jumped up and tried to get his barring’s. His head darted to every corer but with the little light that was provided, he knew he was alone.

He was clearly in a cave of some kind, although where he had no idea. The floor was made up of uneven black stone with the walls of the same nature. It was apparent this cell was manufactured by the tribesmen, as there were scratches all over the walls from the chisels and hoes used to make them. The only hint of light was coming from a small hole in the top of the cave, about the size of a bull’s head. The position of the sun told him it was midday, meaning he was only knocked out for a few hours. Maybe four or five? He saw at the mouth of a cave laid a pale grey coloured boulder. It was obvious it was rolled in here from a different area of the Island to barricade the opening.

Sandor ran to the door and tried to push as hard as he could against it but it didn’t budge. When he took a running start at it, it only proved to hurt his shoulder, but the rock remained unmoving.

“Fuck!” Sandor yelled throwing his hands up in the air.

He paced the small space thinking of what his next move would be. If his wolf-bitch was still alive he would kill Ryton and then escape with her in tow. He would then gather the men a force an attack and conquer these savage’s lands. He was done with this peacekeeping shite. 

If she was dead, he would die trying to cut down every man, woman, and child where they stood. He would show no mercy; he would show no compassion. He would make sure that every single one of them saw his face before he slaughtered their entire village. He wanted them to know who sent them to the Many Faced God for killing the only thing he ever treasured.

He gagged and had to swallow his own bile in remembering the sound of the club as it hit his woman’s head. It sounded like a stick cracking against a melon. He remembered the look on her face as she went unconscious and slumped against that little shit, Titus. He saw the look of pure joy and hunger in Titus’ eyes as she fell into his open arms. Her head already bleeding out the side of her temple. It reminded him of when she was fighting the white-walkers and she came out alive, but had a huge gash on the side of her head. It made him uncomfortable to see it then and he knew it would be painful to see now.

 _I’m going to enjoy watching that shit beg for his life_ , Sandor thought.

He then remembered Ryton virtually skipping alongside their kidnappers. He looked overjoyed and happy that he was finally getting his way. He remembered trying to claw his way through the hoard of men holding him back to get to Ryton. Just one punch and Sandor knew he could have his teeth knocked out. But alas, everything went dark when he started to struggle. And judging from the pounding headache he had it was obvious someone knocked him out.

He placed his hand on the stone and knocked on it with his knuckles. It was as solid as rock came. There was no way he could leave unless it was through that front door.

He leaned against the wall and slid down until he was sitting. He rubbed his eyes roughly with his forefinger and thumb, although he quickly ripped his hand away when he remembered the feeling of his brothers’ fingers trying to gouge out his eyes almost a year ago.

His mind wandered back to the previous night when he and Arya made love behind the waterfall. It was a night he was surely going to remember for the rest of his days. He remembered the way her soft, pale, wet body felt beneath his rough hands. It was slick like a seal but as soft as a baby duck’s feathers. Her wet hair was still silky smooth when cradled her head. He thought of how she cried out his name and the feel of her lips on his neck. He remembered her smile and how she was latched tightly around him. She was absolutely stunning in the blue moonlight. His head dipped in between his knees when he thought of how good it felt after she covered his face in loving kisses and in what way she said she loved him. When she called him handsome he thought she was just as crazy as everyone thought she was, but she just shook her head and gave him another sweet kiss. She was always telling him the exact opposite of what everyone else did. She was always letting him know that he was loved and that he wasn’t as big a monster as everyone else seemed to think.

He forgot what it was like to be away from her. The last time he left her side was in Kings Landing, and even that was out of his own pigheadedness. He at least knew where to find her and knew she wasn’t in danger. Now it was completely different. He was wracked with worry and fear. He hated that he didn’t know where she was or if she was even still alive.

He let his head fall back against the wall. He should’ve known something like this would happen. He should’ve told Arya to kill that idiot before he did this. He should’ve told her he loved her last night. He should’ve stayed in that fucking waterfall with her until the sun came up so they would’ve at least had the chance to run away before they were framed. He had a lot of ‘should of’s’ in his life. But losing Arya for something as preventable was this would be his greatest regret.

He heard footsteps outside the door and he shot up to his feet, ready for a fight at any moment. He heard the footfalls stop at the boulder barring his cell and a low whistle echo through the cave.

“My, my, my, Clegane,” Ryton said. “You sure found yourself in quite the predicament.”

“You come in here and tell me that to my face!” Sandor snarled. “You get in here and fight me like a man, you fucking coward!”

Ryton chuckled on the other end of the boulder. “I think not. You and I both know that I hold all the cards here. Titus is just waiting for me to give the order to take your little woman as we speak. What is it that you call her? You’re little ‘wolf-bitch?’ Is that it?”

Sandor ran to the door and tried shoving it open but it still didn’t budge. Sandor punched the door as hard as he could and he instantly felt pain in his hand, but ignored it.

Sandor snorted as best he could. “Do what you want with the Stark bitch. If it’s revenge that you’re looking for then you wont get it through her. We’re just fucking to pass the time,” he bluffed easily. “You’d have better luck taking all the wine away from the ship. I would hold more value to that than some flat chested high-born.”

Ryton laughed again against the door and he could hear him breathing. He was so close, if only that blasted door would move.

“I bet you would love me to believe that, wouldn’t you?” he hissed. “I heard you on the ship. You two lovebirds are far from just getting a good fuck in here and there. I can see the way you look at that savage little bitch.”

“You framed us for what exactly?” Sandor countered trying to change the subject away from Arya. “All the men remain loyal to the Captain. They will never respect a rat like you.”

“I don’t need their respect,” Ryton said. “It’ll be pretty easy for them to agree to bow to me if I tell them you killed the Chief. It will be even easier if I have every warrior on this island attack the ship.”

“You’re madder than that Targaryan Queen you know that? You’re fucking insane to believe the men will go with that.”

He heard Ryton chuckle on the other side. “Well, that’s your opinion. One that has never mattered and will still never matter until I decide when you die,” Ryton explained in a sing-song voice. “What’s mad is to think they will hold any loyalty to your ‘wolf-bitch’ when a group of savages are at their throats.” Sandor heard him shift on the other side. “Good luck tonight, _Ser_. You will need it.”

With that Sandor heard Ryton push himself off the boulder and walk away. His footsteps growing fainter and fainter as he walked away.

“RYTON!” he screamed. “You get back here you fucking cunt and face me!”

Sandor sagged back down to the ground as heard the silence. Ryton was gone.

**XXXX**

When Sandor saw the twinkling stars above him he squeezed his eyes shut. All he could think about was Arya. He wanted her back in his arms, and more importantly, he wanted her safe. He had no idea how long they were going to be held captive, but he prayed to any God that was listening that they would leave her be. She didn’t deserve this. She was good, pure even. He wanted her to remain untainted by this world. He didn’t want her to hurt because he wasn’t smart or quick enough to protect her when he should have.

He heard the unmistakeable sound of footsteps and even voices coming towards his cell. He got up again, ready to fight anyone that would dare walk through that door. When he heard the rumblings of the door being rolled by several grunting men he readied himself to attack.

When the door opened inch by inch he saw that there were over a dozen men, all pointing spears and bows directly at him. There was no way he could take on all of them on his own without being killed. But he had to count to ten to stop himself from lashing out at them angrily anyways.

They started screaming at him in the language he didn’t understand. They threw a pair of shackles at Sandor’s feet and started yelling at him while jabbing their fingers in between him and the iron bindings. When he refused one of them came forward and swung his stick and made direct contact with his ribs making him fall to his knees and wheeze out a cough. He finally relented and put them on and stood tall, glaring at everyone in sight. He knew instantly where they got these hand cuffs. He recoginzed them because they came directly from Kings Landing. Ryton had stolen them aboard the ship and broth them with him.

 _The little shit knew we would come in contact with these people,_ Sandor thought in rage. _He had this entire thing planned._

They began pointing to the left of the entry and he deduced they wanted him to move down the passage.

While he walked down the dimly lit hallway he examined everything he could see. There were several other pale coloured boulders, that were undoubtedly other cells for prisoners. There were few torches that lit up the space, but besides that it was pitch black.

He was roughly shoved forward by one of the biggest fuckers he’d seen on the Island. Sandor glared daggers at him but the guards just kept saying, “kanawayhta pichiw!”

Some of the men moved in front of him to move the last boulder out of its spot and tried to shove him through the hole. Sandor stubbornly refused to move and elbowed one of them in the face, breaking his nose. He then wrapped his fingers around the other’s neck and squeezed as hard he could. He felt the blow of one of them strike him in the same spot as he was previously hit in the ribs. He fell to his knees and cried out in pain. He then felt two men drag him from his knees and haul him to his feet and finally push him through the passageway.

Sandor gasped and tried to turn back around from what he saw, but it was too late. The boulder was already rolled back to its place.

Sandor was stuck with about three feet of rock left and then nothing, just a cliff overhanging a massive cave where he saw a dozen or so people looking up at him curiously. Men, women, children, it seemed as though this enormous prison took anyone. The entire establishment was probably the same size as the living courters where he and Arya were staying. The enormous cave probably held fifty to sixty people, although down below he saw only twenty. It was about thirty to forty feet from where he stood on his tiny cliff to the bottom. There were smaller little caves that dotted around the walls and bottom. Ropes and chains were hanging from the roof everywhere Sandor could see. It was obvious the way people got anywhere here was from climbing. He looked to the ceiling and saw a giant hole overlooking the stars.

That was when he realized they threw every prisoner into his colossal cave cavity. His eyes instantly began darting around looking for a small little woman with dark hair and deadly grey eyes. He wondered if they shoved her in here with everyone else that they deemed evil. When he didn’t see her he knew he had to get down there somehow. He saw a chain that was roughly eight feet away from the ledge, perfect jumping distance to hold on to, if you were a more agile man than Sandor.

He backed up as best he could and took a running leap. He was shocked when he managed to grab hold of the chain and began to shimmy down it with a little difficulty. He hadn’t done things like rope climbing in years and he was quite poor at it.

When he reached the bottom a ragged man with a long, metal pole charged him, swinging the pole with little to no skill at all. Sandor dodged the first blow easily and punched him directly in the face, sending the man straight to the floor. He snatched the pole quickly and dared anyone else to attack, pointing it at them in warning.

Another man came running out of no where with a chain and Sandor backed up and slammed the end of the pole into his nose. Blood came gushing out of his nostrils, but still he still didn’t back down. He came back again and when he swung the chain it wrapped around Sandor’s pole. Sandor yanked his pole backwards and for a few moments they played tug of war, before Sandor stepped forward and head-butted the man to the ground. When he was on his back Sandor took the heel of his boot and slammed it into the man’s head. He continued to stomp his foot down, unleashing all the pent up anger he had from the day until the man’s head was nothing but broken bone fragments and mush.

“Any of you other fuckers want to try me?” Sandor screamed at the top of his lungs with his arms open. He was not here to prove his toughness in a prison fight. He only came here for one thing and she wasn’t here.

The rest of the people that had formed a circle around him began to slowly back away, clearly seeing that Sandor was not one to be trifled with.

He looked down at his hands and saw they were covered in blood as well as pole. He quickly wiped the blood from his hands on the man’s shirt and went to investigate what he could do to escape.


	21. Arya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short one today, guys!
> 
> Consider yourself warned that it will get brutal before it gets better. 
> 
> Thanks!
> 
> bebe
> 
> ...

Arya woke up groggy and sore. Her entire body felt like it had it had been run over by a heard of horses. When she rolled over she groaned and realized her ribs were most definitely broken. Again.

She stretched her fingers and toes and continued up her body to see if anything else had broken. She heard a rattling and the feel of cold steel on her wrists, no doubt she was shackled to the stone floor with little to no way of breaking the chains. She could feel that the blood caked in her hair had dried and the wound was closed from the hard blow she took to her head. She also tasted blood in her mouth and realized she couldn’t spit it out as she was gagged with a foul smelling cloth stuffed in her mouth.

She lifted the heavy chains so she could touch her head and assess the damages. She winced as the fresh wound still stung painfully. She hated that she let her concern for Sandor cloud her senses in defending herself. Although, there would’ve been no way they could’ve taken on that many men by themselves.

She already knew from her training in Braavos that she was alone in this pitch black room. She remembered when Jaqen had taken her eyes and she thought it was near impossible to fight. However, now she was grateful that he did. Her senses were much better for it.

She could only sit up to her knees as the chains were not long enough for her to stand. She hated that she was leashed to the ground like a fervent beast, even if she did want to rip off Ryton and Titus’ head for doing this to her and her mate.

She was worried about Sandor, but she had faith in his fighting abilities that he would be able to stay alive long enough to escape. He survived the Lannisters after all, he could survive these savages.

That being said she was still concerned about him. She hoped he was safe and wasn’t doing anything too stupid to get to her. She knew he would fight for her until his last breath. That was something she had full faith in now. She was worried because she knew he would sacrifice himself in exchange that she lived. She hated the idea that that was an option now. She wished they were at least in the same cell, then she would know he was alive.

But here she was, bolted to the floor, alone, and without any knowledge that her lover was ok.

She thought of their time in Kings Landing together. In reality they could’ve just stayed there and lived a boring life together. She remembered before they began warming each other’s beds that he said he was thinking of becoming a farmer, that after his brother was dead he could finally relax. This was hardly what she thought he had in mind. She vowed that if they got out of here alive she would let him choose what they did for the remainder of their lives. He was in this mess because of her after all. If he wanted to fight as a sell sword she would fight as well, if he wanted to become a farmer she would purchase the plow. Anything he wanted to do she would give him, he deserved that much.

She knew he would get bored of living in peace. It just wasn’t his way, even if he thought it was. She knew after a year, maybe more, he would be itching to get into a fight again. 

_You don’t try and tame a rabid dog_ , she thought.

But she would do it as long as he could tolerate it. She would let him come to that conclusion on his own. She would’nt push him, she would play the role of boring old couple until he snapped and wanted to join one fight or another. He had warrior’s blood after all, he would never want to stay put and settle down. 

The footsteps of several men came echoing down what she assumed was a cave hallway. She then heard grunts and swears in their native tongue as she heard the rumbling of a boulder being moved. She winced when the bright lights of the torches in the cave illuminated her small cell.

When her vision cleared she saw Titus standing with his hands on his hips, smiling down at her. The men were shuffling behind him, moving to leave them alone all together.

“Niiya Kishkayhta kiiya enn kaann nishtoohtamihk niiya,” he said.

“ _I know you can understand me_ ,” she translated in her head. She couldn’t really respond as she still had the blasted cloth stuffed in her mouth so she just listened.

“ _This is what is going to happen,”_ he sneered. “ _You will be my woman. You will not fight and you will stay in my tent. I will let the tall burned man go with your big canoe back to the far away island. You will stay here and make good babies with me.”_

Arya’s hands were balled into such tight fists she could feel the blood pouring from the wounds. She was pulling on the shackles around her wrists so tightly she could feel the bruises forming as she knelt there.

Titus took a few steps forward so he was inches away from her, his crotch right in her face as he peered down at her condescendingly. When he moved to undo the knot of her gag she jerked her head away from his touch. He grabbed her by her hair and yanked her forward so he could finally remove the cloth from her mouth.

“ _I will never go to bed with you_ ,” Arya spat in his native language. “ _I only warm the beds of men who are brave, not cowards who murder their own leader_.”

Titus grinned and beckoned one of the soldiers to give him their club. When the solider retreated he began to unlace his trousers.

Arya jumped back as far as her chains would go and readied herself for the rape to come. Her palms were sweating and her heart was hammering in her chest. She had never been this vulnerable to an attack in her entire life. She always had a backup plan and a back up to that back up plan. Right now she was coming up with nothing. She had no idea of what she could do to prevent this.

“ _You will be with me, whether you like it or not,”_ He said with his pants around his knees.

She screamed in anger as his hand grabbed her by her hair and dragged her forward. She could see his cock was already erect and ready for her unwilling mouth.

She kept her lips closed and tried to jerk her head away from him, but he was having none of it. He raised the club to rest under her chin and forced her to look up at him.

“ _If you don’t put it in your mouth I will break those good-looking teeth out of your head.”_

When Arya still didn’t move to do as he asked he gripped her jaw and pried her mouth open like one would with a dog. When he raised his club over her head she surrendered and left it open for him to place his cock on her tongue.

She had a plan and although it required her licking his cock once, it meant she could harm him long enough to avoid another potential rape. She was instantly disgusted and ashamed with herself, but she knew she had to do it, otherwise she would be raped when he beat her unconscious.

She looked up at him and saw his head was tilted back and he was groaning in pleasure. His hand was still gripped in her hair and he was jerking her head back and forth, forcing her to suck his cock. She hated every moment of it. She also felt dirty, like she was whoring herself out while Sandor was waiting for her in a puddle of his own blood.

She then used every ounce of her strength and bit down on his manhood as hard as she could.

She smiled when Titus screamed in pain and stumbled backwards, falling into the wall. She started clawing at her tongue and spitting on the floor. She did everything she could to get the taste of him off her mouth.

She could see his cock was bleeding profusely from her teeth puncturing it. She remembered before Bran had his accident she had kicked him in between the legs when he stole her arrow. He had doubled over in pain and was yelling for their father. When her father came to her side he actually sat her down and explained that men were incredibly sensitive to such an attack. He told her she should never do that unless she was in real danger. She considered this to be one of those times and was immensely happy that he was screaming in so much pain.

She smiled as he scrambled to pull his pants up and lace them before any of the other soldiers could come and see what happened.

“ _Bring the female pale face to the sacred circle!”_ Titus yelled before he walked over to Arya and swung his club and struck her in the face. He then grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back up. _“You will be mine. And you will pay for that.”_ He then turned back to the gathering men outside her cell. _“And get the burned one! I want her to watch as we beat him to death.”_

Arya screamed and thrashed in his arms as he tried to get the gag back in her mouth, but it did no good. For one of the men stomped over and punched her in the jaw and sent her flying into the dirt. The solider then easily put the gag back around her head as she slipped in and out of consciousness.


	22. Sandor

In the two days and nights Sandor was in that rat hole he learned a lot.

He learned that the majority of the people in the prison were charged with various crimes ranging from rape to murder. Some of them were even charged with odd misconducts such as coveting another man’s wife without the consent of the Chief, or disrespecting their sacred lands in some way or another.

He also learned that there was little civility with any of them. Within the first hour of him being there he was attacked by two more men trying to steal his boots of all things. When food was available massive fights would break out and he saw men actually steal food straight from the hands of small children.

He thought this was somewhat justified considering how little they were fed. He discovered the tribesmen above would just throw their scraps of food into the hole at the end of the day. Sandor couldn’t believe how poorly they were fed. The first day he filled himself on half-eaten fruit that was covered in flies and meat that was already smelling like it was left in the sun for weeks. The jail in Kings Landing would look like a palace compared to this slum he was trapped in.

The women were the most barbarous of them all. In order to prevent themselves from being raped or Gods knows what else, they would cover themselves with their own feces. They also almost always had a shiv in their hand, ready to take down anyone that tried to attack them. Sandor found out this the hard way when he accidently went into the wrong chambers and had a woman scream and try to cut him for entering her room. He quickly dodged out of the way, but he could see that she was aiming to kill, not to injure.

The first night he found the nearest vacant hole he could lay down in, but refused to sleep. The last thing he needed was for someone to raid him in the middle of the night. He needed to keep his wits about him at all times if he was ever going to escape.

In all honesty the only thing that kept him sane was the thought of finding Arya again. She was always the thing he thought of when things got too hard for him to deal with. She was always the light at the end of the path he strived for. When he was dying on the side of that cliff, it was the thought of her helpless and all alone that made him pull through. When he was fighting for his life with against the weights, it was her that dragged him out of his defeat.

It was the second night he heard voices above the hole. When he peered out the entrance of his cell he saw several tribesmen, one of whom was Titus, holding torches and pointing in Sandor’s direction.

At that moment he swore he never hated anyone more than that man. The need to kill was almost overwhelming his senses. He knew fighting in anger never ended well, but fighting with hate may help him more.

Sandor stood and walked out his cave to see what the fuck they were even doing here. Right when he was about to yell at them, one of the men took a bamboo shoot out of his pants and blew into the end of it right in Sandor’s direction.

“Fuck!” he yelled when he felt something prick his skin.

He looked down and removed what looked to be a small needle, about the size of a quill with feathers wrapped to the end of it, stuck into his ribs. He removed the dart and looked up in annoyance. When he took another step and suddenly the room began to spin. He felt as though he just drank seven flagons of wine in under an hour. He felt his vision blur and he tried to take another step, only to stumble forward.

He finally collapsed to his knees and everything went black.

**XXXX**

Sandor woke to the sound of laughter and hushed whispers. When he opened his eyes the room was hazy and sounds were muted. He scrubbed the dirt in his eyes and groaned as he felt the after effects of the drug he was no doubt attacked with. He was hot and sweaty all over his body. His head was pounding harder than any hangover he ever endured in his life. He was laying on what seemed to be a pile of sticks or something, because he was getting poked uncomfortably in the back.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to get his barring’s. When he finally felt like he could open his eyes without vomiting he sat up. His hands were much heavier than they normally were. He looked down and realized they were in shackles with long chains tied to several trees surrounding the heavily wooded area.

Sandor guessed they were not in the village anymore as there were the same trees they saw when they first arrived. He also could feel the crunching of the animal bones beneath his legs. He saw the sun was high in the sky, so that meant the drug had effected him for at least seven to eight hours. He had to hand it to the savages, they knew perfect ways of incapacitating a man very easily. He would remember this for next time when they tried to drug him.

Members of the tribe were standing in the formation of a circle around him. Directly in front of him sat the new Chief that Sandor recognized as the original Chief’s son. He saw that to his left sat what he assumed to be his wife and to his right sat Ryton, smiling happily. Titus also stood right next to him with his arms folded across his chest. Not a care in the world.

Sandor forgot about his chains for a moment and lurched forward, trying to get to them so he could wring their necks. He was yanked back when the chains gave no slack from the massive trees he was tied to.

“You look tired, Clegane,” Ryton said.

“Fuck you,” Sandor snapped. “You know you can’t fool these people forever. Eventually they’ll find out what filth you truly are.”

Ryton smiled and waved him off dismissively. He then leaned into the new Chief’s ear and started mumbling something that Sandor couldn’t understand.

The Chief glared at Sandor for a moment before he yelled, “itshahoo la faas blaan!”

Sandor stood and yanked on the chains in annoyance when he heard men shuffling around to make a hole in the circle. One of the larger men were carrying what looked to be a baby stag over his massive shoulder. Sandor squinted and as they walked closer he realized it was Arya.

Sandor bolted towards her before he could tell himself to calm down. He didn’t make it very far as he was yet again yanked back from the short chain he was on. He watched in disgust as she was dropped down about ten steps away from him and was chained up just like he was.

“I thought you didn’t give a shit about some flat-chested highborn?” Ryton asked with a rattlesnake smile.

Sandor ignored him and let his eyes watched her carefully. He actually dropped to his knees in relief when he saw her chest rise and fall with her steady breaths. He thanked the Gods for keeping her alive. That was at least one high point of this whole ordeal.

He noticed blood had dried and stuck to her temple from getting struck in the head so brutally. One of her eyes had unfathomable bruising around the socket and there was another on the corner of her mouth. Her lip was split and her knuckles were bloody as well. Her mouth was gagged with a yellow colored cloth that was tired around her head.

She didn’t deserve to be treated like this. She wasn’t the dog, he was.

“Arya,” he said quietly. “Arya, you need to get up.” When she remained as still as an oak he punched the ground beneath his hands. “Arya! Wake up!”

When she still didn’t move Sandor’s head snapped to the men sitting before him. “What have you done to her?”

Ryton smiled and said something to the Chief. Sandor had no idea if what he was he was saying was true or not, he doubted it was. The Chief replied in a rushed state. His hand motioning back and forth between Arya and Sandor. He then jabbed his finger at Arya in a clear accusation.

Ryton looked back at Sandor and he could tell he was hiding a smile. “The poor lad wants to know why you and your woman killed his innocent father. He says they did nothing but welcome you into their home only to betray them. He thinks your little wolf-bitch should be raped once for every year you’ve stolen from his father’s life.”

“You fucking cunt!” Sandor said standing to his feet. “You touch her and I’ll –”

“– you’ll what?” Ryton challenged. “You can’t _do_ anything to me. I hold all the players here. I don’t have to listen to your barking anymore. And I sure as shit don’t have to listen as some spoiled high-born bitch ordering me to do things meant for a squire!” Ryton took a step forward and pointed at Sandor with his finger shaking in anger. “I’ve earned this! Not you or her or anyone else! This was _my_ destiny.”

Sandor clenched his fists. The hunger to execute had never been more robust than it was now. He wanted to smash that fuckers head in just like he did with that man who attacked him two days prior.

Sandor was interrupted form his murderous thoughts when he heard a soft moan from Arya’s lips.

Sandor’s head whipped to her and he fell to all fours so he could look at her properly.

“Arya,” he whispered. “Arya, can you hear me?”

Arya groaned and he was flooded with relief when he saw her grey eyes finally open. She looked at him for a moment before she sat up slowly. When she saw Ryton her stare turned cold and she rose to her feet.

Sandor could tell right away that she was putting on a hard face. He could see how weak she really was from the harsh beatings she was given. She was leaning on one foot more than another and her arm was clenched against her side, holding a wound she undoubtedly received earlier.

The Chief suddenly ordered one of the larger guards to do something. Sandor knew it wasn’t good because Arya’s head whipped back to Sandor and she was looking at him in a panic.

The large man walked over to Sandor and hit him in the ribs with the staff they used to train the Northerners. When Sandor didn’t fall the man just hit him again and again until he finally dropped to his knees with a hiss of pain. He looked up at Arya and saw that she was at the end of her chains trying to get to him. When the soldier saw this he walked over to Arya and did the same thing.

Sandor yelled out as he watched the only thing he ever loved get clubbed over and over again until she was on the ground as well. He never felt so helpless in his entire existence. He was so close to her and yet he still couldn’t stop her from getting hurt.

Arya was breathing in and out through her nose like a bull. Her eyes were clenched shut and her hands formed tiny fists. He knew she’d taken a lot of beatings in her short life, but it still hurt him to his core to watch all the same.

When she finally opened her eyes he swore he never seen her look to angry before in the entire time he’d known her. He wanted to badly to unleash her from her shackles and watch as his beautiful warrior woman massacred the entire village.

The Chief ordered something to Ryton and he sighed and walked over to Arya. When Ryton put his hand under her chin and forced her to look up at him, she snarled like a feral animal.

“The Chief is insistent that you tell him why you killed his father,” Ryton murmured.

Arya glared hotly at him but didn’t bother to respond. Not that she could with the gag lodged so far into her mouth. Sandor wished Ryton would at least remove the gag. She wasn’t the animal here, he was.

“What do you say we let him sweat it out?” Ryton asked quietly before letting her head go and walking back to his chair. He then whispered something to the Chief making Arya scream and thrash in her bindings.

Sandor had no idea what was said, but he could see Arya was furious about it. One of the men that formed the circle around them stepped forward and began walking towards Sandor. Sandor grinned and spat a lob of blood from his mouth and raised his arms, openly mocking the men who thought they could hurt him.

The man raised his staff and continuously hit Sandor until the Chief yelled at them to stop. He knew Ryton would never translate the truth, and Arya couldn’t speak because she was muzzled, so Sandor stayed quiet. This only proved to irritate the new Chief more and the beatings continued.

When the Chief finally ordered them to stop for the day, Sandor could feel he had broken several bones. His nose, some fingers, and his hand for certain. He thought that perhaps his ribs were fucked again, but they seemed alright when he breathed, perhaps just a deep bruise?

When he finally had the stomach to look up at Arya he saw pure worry, fear, and concern laced in her eyes. She was still at the end of her chains and he could see that the steel had cut into her wrists, making her bleed all over the grass.

Sandor could see the men were dissipating and getting ready to send he and Arya back to their cells. He quickly scrambled to his knees and looked directly at Arya.

“Arya,” he whispered so Ryton wouldn’t hear. “Arya, you find a way out and you take it, you understand? You don’t wait for me. You get back to the ship as fast as you can.”

Just by the way Arya was looking at him he knew she wasn’t going to go along with that. She still looked so worried, it made his heart clamp in his torso excruciatingly.

“Arya,” he whispered seriously. “You need to listen to me. You leave and get the men, you don’t try and find me.”

He saw a tear fall down her left cheek and she quickly wiped it away furiously. She glared at him and defiantly and shook her head.

“Fuck sake, girl!” he bellowed in frustration.

He saw the men were untying her from the tree and were pulling her back towards wherever it was she was being held captive. He saw red as she was being yanked away like a dog on a lead. She was being treated like how he was his entire life and he loathed it.

“Arya!” he yelled. “Get your fucking hands off her!”

He was too busy looking at Arya to realize that one of the soldiers had also untied his bindings as well and was tugging him away from him.

“Relax Sandor,” Ryton said over his shoulder while walking away. “Titus will be gentle with her.”

“Arya!” he yelled.

The last he saw of Arya that day was watching her being shoved roughly to the ground while Titus kicked her directly in the stomach when she was down.

That night Sandor did what he swore he would never do since he was a child.

He prayed to any God listening that Arya would come out of this alive.


	23. Arya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait, guys. 
> 
> This chapter was super difficult to write so i hope i don't disappoint! 
> 
> All comments and kudos are much appreciated and thanks for sticking with me for so long!
> 
> -bebe

Arya shrieked and flailed against the men holding her down. They were attempting to hold her to the floor while securing her chains but she’d be damned if she was going to make it easy for them.

She was back in her cell after her midday beating. Today they were much more creative, as they decided it would be best that she was beat with a sack full of stones. She reckoned their fists were getting too broken up to carry on hitting her in such a manner.

For the past four weeks it was the same thing. They would wake her in all hours of the night and strap her down to a wooden board. Then they would put the same dirty cloth over her mouth, and pour pitchers of swamp water over her face until she vomited what little contents she had in her stomach, and then do it again.

They would then would throw her into her cell for a few hours while they ate lunch. Then they would bring her back out to be beaten in someway or another. It was during those times alone she thought of the many ways she could attempt an escape. It seemed to be the one rarity that she could still enjoy in such vile times.

It wasn’t until two weeks ago where they started drugging her daily and brought back to the forest with Sandor to kneel before the new Chief. The Chief continued to ask her why she killed his father and Ryton would continuously tell him that she and Sandor refused to answer. Or just plainly lie to see them be abused over and over.

When Sandor didn’t answer the Chief’s questions he was forced to watch Arya get kicked, punched, and beaten with a wooden stick until she fell to her knees, too weak to fight anymore. She would try everything in her power not to look at him in those moments. She knew this was already difficult for him and she didn’t want to make it worse. She also tried everything in her power to keep them interested in her rather than attacking Sandor again.

Her heart ached for her lover. Every time he was hit with a staff or punched in the gut she would try and rip herself from her chains to get to him. She could feel that her wrists were raw and scratched from the constant pulling, but she didn’t care. At this point she wished she had the tools to cut off her own hands so she could save him from the beatings he endured.

She swore to any God listening that she would let Sandor have his revenge. Of course she wanted to kill them all, but she would take great pleasure in watching him kill Ryton the way he wanted.

When she was brought back to her cell they would let her rest for another hour or so before Titus would come in and would taunt her through the walls of her cell. He would mock Sandor and call him feeble minded and pathetic for permitting his woman to be beaten to a pulp. She would always do her best to ignore it, but it was growing difficult as the day wore on.

Titus hadn’t forced himself on her again since she bit his cock on the first night of her imprisonment. She assumed it was because he was physically unable to do anything, as she caused such scarring on his manhood. She also knew that as soon as he was healed he would attack again. She was certain of it. Arya wracked her brain for a way to wound him momentously while having her hands bound, but she was coming up with nothing. She distinguished he would not make the same mistake of shoving his disgusting cock in her mouth, so she continued to think of ways to kill him before it was too late.

Hours after she was strapped back into her cell wall, she heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway for her drugging today. She quickly readied herself for the dart to fly into her belly again. She needed to do reconnaissance and she couldn’t bloody well do it proper if she was foggy minded from the sedative.

When the boulder was moved Arya saw the piece of bamboo sticking out of the soldier’s mouth, ready to shoot his dart right at her. When he blew Arya let the dart stab her hand and waited for the man to leave. She delayed until his footsteps were faint in the distance before she began aggressively sucking at the wound, getting the medication out of her system so it did not affect her.

When she heard more men coming down the hall she hastily lay on the floor, sprawled out like a starfish with her eyes closed. She wanted them to at least _think_ the drug worked.

She heard Titus’ foul voice and she had to stop herself from gritting her teeth.

“ _She’s a wild one for sure. But I’ll break her in properly. Just have to wait. The new Chief wont allow us to take her yet. He doesn’t like us taking women without their permission unless they are guilty for certain. He says he is not certain of her yet.”_

_“Do you honestly think the Chief is going to change his mind, Titus? He was clear the girl was not to be touched.”_

_“As soon as I am healed she will be mine, Chief’s permission or not. He will never know._ ”

Arya squeezed her eyes shut as they entered her cell. When she felt Titus’ hand sift through her hair she _wanted to vomit._

 _“So beautiful, so fierce. I can’t wait to see just how wild she is. Dakota said that the burned man’s back was covered in scratches from her. I wonder how deep I can make her claws dig into me_ ,” Titus said. 

Arya still pretended to be comatose while Titus carried her over his shoulder. She had to grit her teeth when she felt his hand squeeze her rump. It felt wrong, his hand wasn’t Sandor’s, his hands were much bigger and stronger than this man’s. She hated every minute she was touching him.

She heard the echo of his footsteps through the cave hallway, they were also ascending up a hill of some kind. She felt the sun on her skin as they surfaced from whatever cave she was imprisoned. She couldn’t hear anything but the sound of wind and the padding of Titus’ feet on the grass. She knew immediately that they were not in the village anymore because she also heard when the ground changed from grass to the sounds of bones crunching beneath his feet. They didn’t walk long, less than an hour for sure.

When she heard Sandor’s breaths coming in grunts she knew they reached their destination. She had to bite down a shriek when he dropped her carelessly onto the tough bones that strewn across the forest floor. She needed to play the part of the unconscious victim so she could finally analyze her surroundings with a clear head.

 _“This is getting repetitive_ ,” she heard the Chief say. “ _If they hadn’t said anything in thirty moons than they probably wont say anything at all_.”

“ _Might I make a suggestion?_ ” she heard Ryton say. “ _She claims she belongs to the burned man. We should show her the tribe’s ways in presenting such a thing_.”

“ _What did you have in mind_?”

“ _The women here have their chests burned with the insignia of their mates, do they not_?” Ryton asked. “ _Forever they will show who they belong to for the rest of their lives_.”

Arya did not like where this was headed. She knew the Chief couldn’t see her so she peeked her eyes open and looked at Sandor worriedly.

His brown eyes were staring directly at her. His hands were shaking in anger while he gripped his chains. He looked as though he wished he could break through them. She saw he now sported a black eye that was almost swollen shut. His knuckles were raw and bloody from fighting back or (most likely) was punching walls in anger. His hair was a total mess and she could clearly see that he recently re-set his nose as it was broken for a second time since they arrived. He also looked thin, far too thin. His lips were chapped from the dehydration and his cheeks were beginning to hollow.

She winced when she heard that Titus was leaving to prepare her for her the new torture technique they were about to ensue. Sandor was not going to like this, not one bit.

She moved her hand up about two milometers to tell Sandor to stay where he was. There was no point in both of them getting hurt when she could take the pain.

Sandor’s head whipped to Titus who was walking to the living courters to retrieve a branding poker normally used for live stalk.

She knew Sandor didn’t understand the language, and she couldn’t be much help. Titus and Ryton were always careful to keep the gag in her mouth when she was in the presence of other tribesmen. They knew she could explain themselves and out them as traitors.

The first week she tried explaining through the gag, but it always came out garbled and distorted. In fact, anytime she would try and get the Chief’s attention he would wave her off dismissively. Apparently he only appreciated Sandor’s explanations and not her own. She couldn’t blame him really, she wouldn’t trust Cersei’s explanations for killing her father, she would’ve also wanted it from a more trusted source.

She tried her best to listen to the sounds of the forest so she could at least know where she was. She heard the rustling of the leaves from the tops of the trees. She heard men’s boots crunch against bones on the ground. She also heard water, perhaps they were close to the ocean?

When Ryton returned Arya peeked her eyes open and saw that he placed the poker over the small fire that sat in front of the Chief.

Arya discreetly watched at Sandor as his expression went from confusion, to horrific understanding, to pure rage. He looked at Arya with his nostrils flared and his hands balled into fists. She knew straight away that he comprehended what was going to occur.

“You fucking cunts!” Sandor yelled. “Burn me and leave her be! She doesn’t need to be marked permanently because you’re a conniving little shit. I’m already mutilated! Take me!”

Ryton smiled and gave him a noncommittal shrug.

“Tell him I killed the Chief!” Sandor exclaimed.

Arya let her nails scratch into the ground beneath her body. She wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up. She didn’t need their mercy; she could work through pain. She was beaten unconscious almost every day when she was in Braavos, she could handle this.

“I will do not such thing, Clegane,” Ryton said finally. “I have to say these last couple weeks have been a joy for me, but I want this little bitch to know that I am not just another boy she can order around. She needs to know she should’ve stayed where she belonged.”

Arya heard someone walking towards her. She could smell the burning metal and waited for her chance. When she heard that he was less than two paces away she kicked her feet out and Titus landed on his ass. She quickly jumped up and kicked him directly in the jaw. When she tried to retrieve the poker he dropped she was lurched back by a solider pulling the chain taught, holding her back like a rabid animal.

Titus scrambled to his feet and ordered several of the men to hold her down. She was shoved down to her hands and knees and she screamed through her gag. She hated that she was so easily overpowered, but she couldn’t bloody well fight off four men with her hands bound. She felt all their boots shove her down into the mud and bones to keep her still.

She felt the back of her shirt being lifted up and she thrashed an squirmed as best she could to free herself, but it was no use. She was stuck exactly where Ryton and Titus wanted her.

She felt Titus’ hand caress her back with his greasy hand before he squeezed her ass. Her scream was muffled under the gag and she again tried to get away from him with no avail. 

Arya heard Sandor roar in anger with his chains rattling. She refused to look at him and see the agony in his face. She didn’t want to make him more upset so she squeezed her eyes shut and waited for Titus to do his worse.

 _“If you’re not willing to submit to me, then I will make sure everyone will see that you are forever branded by an old, soiled, canine. Always stained by his reputation rather than taking on my esteemed title,”_ he sneered into her ear. _“My brothers and sisters will know that you are available for all of them to take. Maybe two at a time since you are so wild,_ ” he whispered in her ear.

Arya stayed absolutely still and refused to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Her eyes darted to Sandor and she tried to tell him that it was alright, but her gag prevented her from doing so.

When the hot poker touched her shoulder blade the first time she felt cold, like someone was pressing a block of ice into her back. But when she smelt the burning flesh she felt the pain scorching her nerves tenfold. It was far worse than the time she accidently touched a wood stove as a child. It was like someone was taking an icepick to her nerves and twisting it painfully.

She couldn’t help the blood curdling scream that escaped her lips and echoed through the forest. She flailed beneath the soldiers boots and tried to squirm away, but it was still useless.

She didn’t dare look at Sandor but she could hear him hollering and yelling at the top of his lungs. Arya tried her best to keep her screams to a minimum until she heard Titus ask for the second poker. It was then Arya slammed her forehead into the ground repeatedly in attempts to mask the horrid burning pain with another.

When the second poker hit her back it was just as bad as the first, if not more so. She never felt more helpless or more like a victim than right now. She hated that she was being held down, she hated that she couldn’t do anything to free herself, she hated that they were inflicting such pain on her and Sandor without any consequences, and, most importantly, she hated Titus.

When the burning had finally ended Arya was breathing is gasps. She refused to let a single tear fall and she refused to let them see her face in pain.

Her vison was blurry and her hands were shaking. When they tugged her shirt back down and dragged her to her feet she repudiated to sway, even though it felt like her legs were going to collapse at any moment. She was breathing in and out heavily through her nose as she attempted to slow her breaths. Her back was aching excruciatingly and the rough fabric of her sark scratching against it was not helping her at all. She could also feel the blood pouring down her shoulder blades and back.

She stole a side glance at Sandor and saw he was again, at the end of his chains with his arms being pulled behind him. He was staring at her in anguish and then turned to Titus. He looked absolutely furious when Titus smiled at him menacingly.

“I’m doing to burn your face to match mine,” Sandor said slowly. “When I get out of here you will be begging for mercy long before I will give it.”

The Chief looked at Ryton in expectation. He was waiting for a translation that Ryton would no doubt give, word for word. The only reason this translation would be accurate would be because it would get Sandor into trouble.

Arya looked at Sandor in a panic. She wished she could speak to him. She wanted to tell him that everything would be alright, that he didn’t need to worry, and that they would find a way to get out of here and kill these two fuckers together.

The Chief then ordered that Sandor be strapped to a tree while they whipped him fifty times with a belt.

Arya screamed at the sky.

 _If any of you are listening, please, please, I am begging you. Spare the man I love_ , Arya prayed to the Gods.


	24. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little more about the weird prison. I wanted people to see how malicious the tribe could be if you messed with them. 
> 
> -bebe
> 
> ....

_Five days_ , Sandor thought. _Five fucking days since I last saw her._

Sandor sat in his cell with his shiv clutched in his hand ready for any of the savages to attack him at any given moment. As soon as he got back from the last time he was with Arya he woke up finding his boots were missing. He stomped around the entire facility until he found the fucker that took them. He was already fuming over watching his woman get beat to shit, he needed to let off some steam. He wrapped his fingers around the puny man’s throat until he was blue in the face. When Sandor dropped the man he kicked him in the face for good measure. He wanted to kill him, but thought better of it when he saw a woman in the corner pleading in the foreign language.

His attitude was getting more and more sour as each day passed. He was finding himself muttering to himself and Gods forbid if anyone tried to speak to him. He just needed one minor inconvenience and he knew he would fly off the handle and murder someone if he wasn’t careful.

He winced as his sark rubbed against the lashes on his back. He hated that those fuckers had managed to overpower him, but he was grateful they forgot about Arya.

He shuddered in remembering the sounds that came out of Arya when they placed that poker into her back. She was so little and they were so big there was no way she could slip out of their hold on her. He loathed that she was going to wear that scar for the rest of her life, just as he wore his. He knew she would still be in pain today. It took Sandor almost an entire year to recover from his burns. He remembered how much puss and blood he had to clean from them. No one would help him do it, his father was useless and Gregor was a lost cause at that point, so he had to clean his own burns himself.

He didn’t want that for Arya. He wanted her to know that he would be there, right next to her, helping to sterilise the injuries that he let happen.

Over the past few weeks he was looking for an escape. He saw that each rope hanging from the ceiling was connected to each of the holes in the walls where the prisoners slept. The highest rope reached about twenty feet from the surface. Sandor deduced that it would be impossible to climb the rock wall as it was as slick and smooth as the bannisters in the Lannister castle.

Whenever he was drugged and brought down to the Chief he tried to look for any kind of clue around him, but he was at a loss. He could barely hear anything thanks to the ramblings of Ryton. All he saw around him were trees and bones. And of course when they brought Arya all of his attention was focused on her.

He was tired, hungry, and lonely. He had no idea how attached he had become to Arya until she was stolen from him. He went to sleep every night feeling cold without her body heat to warm him. When he ate he was annoyed that no one was offering him their leftovers. He especially hated that he could no longer lean down and call someone a cunt and be rewarded with a smirk or a laugh.

“Aashahkay li taan!” a solider yelled from the top of the prison hole.

Sandor learned on his first day that this meant it was time to eat. He knew this because hoards of people would run to the centre with rocks made into bowls to catch any food that was thrown down to them.

However, this time Sandor saw no one at the top. There wasn’t a soul in sight, just the hot sun beaming down into the cave.

When he looked at the other prisoners he saw they were chatting amongst themselves in the language he didn’t understand. He wanted to know what the fuck was going on until he heard a little boy scream from a cell twenty feet above him.

“Mishow aen moonstr! Mishow aen moonstr!”

Sandor recognized those words. It was the same words men would mutter at him whenever he passed a large group. Arya told him not to worry about it and when he pressed further, she finally admitted that they were calling him the big monster. She also told him that she didn’t mind one bit, it meant that he was a fierce warrior that men would cower before.

Sandor looked to where the child was pointing and he saw a giant furry animal shaped like a coyote, but was most certainly not a coyote. The guards were holding it at the same entrance over fifty feet above his head that Sandor went through when he first entered this hell hole.

It had the same coloring as a coyote, but it was much larger than any wolf or dog species he ever saw. It’s head almost reached the guards’ necks. The legs were long like a spider and its fused leg bones gave it a physique well-suited for long-distance running. The eyes were pure yellow with no pupil or iris. Its teeth were curved, clearly adapted for hunting small mammals, birds, and apparently now humans.

The giant creature was being held two arms lengths away by a long stick attached to the leather strap around its neck. The dog was drooling at the mouth with its teeth barred and snarling and snapping, trying to inch forward to the crowd of people below.

 _Surely if it jumped it would die immediately on impact, it’s almost sixty feet!_ Sandor thought.

But alas the guards simply dropped the stick and stepped away from the animal and rolled the boulder back in place.

That was when everyone started to scatter like rats. He saw a woman bolt to a rope and began climbing at an impressively fast rate. A man punched another square in the jaw in a fight to get the rope he wanted. A woman and her child were running to one of the few holes that had a boulder that could be used for a door.

“Are all of you fucking morons?” Sandor asked. “That thing is going to die as soon as it jumps you fucking idiots.”

Suddenly the giant canine leaped from the small cliff and soared down at a remarkable speed. The animal landed on its feet just as graceful as a cat and looked a young man dead in the eye.

The boy took off running only for the animal to catch him instantly and bite into his jugular. Sandor’s mouth dropped open as the dog snapped the man’s neck like a tooth pick. Bloody spurted out in every direction and the man’s screams died down to a garbled murmur. The dog seemed only to be interested in eating the head and chest. Sandor assumed the animal was only hungry for vital organs rather than the little muscle the boy had on his skinny bones.

Sandor made a mad dash for the nearest rope he could find. He would be damned that he would forever be known as the Hound that was eaten by a fucking hound.

He was shoved out of the way by a woman with a child strapped to her back. He let them pass and take the rope as he did not want to be responsible for the death of any more children.

He looked over his shoulder while he ran and saw the dog was staring directly at him. Because he wasn’t looking where he was going he ran straight into a nearby wall, cracking his forehead against the stone painfully.

“Fuck!” he yelled and darted off to the left to get to the nearby rope.

The dog was dashing straight towards him at a swiftness Sandor had never seen an animal perform. He caught a rope that was dangling right over his head and he hurriedly climbed faster than he ever had before. The dog jumped and tried to bite at his heels. Sandor thanked the Gods that he had the strength to pull himself up higher and higher despite his injuries from all the beatings he encountered over the last month or so.

When he finally reached high enough he looked down and saw the dog snarling and gnawing at the end of the rope, trying desperately to get to Sandor’s feet with no avail. The dog finally lost interest when it saw a young woman sprinting across the main floor to get to another rope opposite Sandor. Sandor actually had to close his eyes in disgust when seeing its sharp teeth crack open her head like a melon.

He looked to his left and saw that there was miraculously an unoccupied hole. He assumed it belonged to the woman who was just eaten alive by that wretched creature. He swung his legs back and forth to gain some momentum, when he finally began to swing far enough he reached for the side and thankfully grabbed onto a rock that was jutted out. He rolled into the hole and lay on his side.

Sandor squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could and fell into the first deep slumber.

**XXXX**

“Sandor,” Arya breathed. “Wake up, my love. You’ve been asleep too long.”

Sandor opened his eyes and looked up to see those two big grey orbs looking down at him from where she was kneeling.

She was wearing one of his sarks with the neckline falling over one of her shoulders, revealing her snowy soft skin. Her hair was down and was falling like a waterfall over one eye. Her tiny hand was running through his hair gently and she had a slight smile playing on her lips, like she found it amusing he was sleeping in a cold cave drenched in blood, dirt, and sweat.

“A – Arya?”

She beamed down at him and nodded enthusiastically. She leaned down and gave him a gentle kiss on his temple.

“You look tired,” she observed while caressing his burned cheek with her knuckles.

Sandor nodded and placed his hand over hers and kissed her palm. She shimmied down on the floor so she was lying on her side facing him, her head pillowed on her bent arm. She was still smiling at him and she started running her hand through his hair again.

“You work too hard, old man,” she teased with an impish smile. “You should rest more otherwise you’ll go grey.”

“What are you doing in here?” Sandor asked, completely ignoring what she said. “How did you get in here? Why are you dressed like that?”

She put her hand on his cheek and began stroking the skin beneath his eye. “I thought you liked it when I wore your shirt. You thought I looked beautiful.”

Sandor’s face dropped. He pulled himself away from her touch and propped himself up on his elbow.

“I never told you that,” he whispered. “How do you know that?”

Her smile widened and she began rubbing his chest to soothe him.

“Take a guess, my love.”

Sandor stared at her for a moment before he laid back down beside her.

“You’re not real,” he muttered. “This is a dream.”

Arya shook her head and leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek. “No, my love. I’m not.”

Sandor sighed and glared at the wall behind her. He liked that she was here but hated that he was dreaming it.

“Sandor,” she whispered. “You need to listen to me. You need to keep your strength and spirits up.”

“What for? I’ll be dead in less than a month and you will be raped and killed in front of me and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Arya shook her head and wiggled closer to him. His eyes actually rolled into the back of his head when he smelled her. He ached for that smell for so long.

“Listen to me, my love. I am depending on you. I don’t know how much longer I will last. I will never give myself over to Titus willingly. We both know how strong willed I can be. We both also know the fierceness of my loyalty to you,” she whispered quickly. “He will take me eventually,” she added quietly.

Sandor looked at her and her face screamed urgency in whatever request she was about to ask. She leaned in and kissed him deeply before she spoke again.

“You are the only man I have ever loved. If you truly love me as you say you do, you must keep strong and find a way out of here,” she whispered against his lips. “You will forever be my love. But I can’t bloody well tell you that in person if you are dead.”

Sandor closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers. He wished it was real, and that this wasn’t a dream. He wanted to touch and feel her. He missed her so much.

“How?” he asked.

When Sandor opened his eyes, she had vanished and he was alone again in his dark hole.


	25. Arya/Sandor/Arya

Arya was lying on the floor of her cell shivering uncontrollably. Despite being from the North and having ice run through her veins, she didn’t like this type of cold. It was a wet cold that chilled her to her core. At least the snowy cold was bearable as long as you had proper clothing, in the caves everything was wet and seemed impossible to dry.

The only people she saw for the last week were unnamed soldiers delivering her whatever food was left over. She could feel that with the lack of nutrients she was getting weaker and weaker by the day. Last night she even lifted her shirt and saw that her ribs were clearly visible, her skin stretched taut as they sharply protruded outwards. 

She winced as the burn mark on her shoulder stung whenever she lay on her back. She gingerly rolled onto her side and glared at the wall.

She would always have Sandor’s look of horror when she was burned with the white hot poker etched into her memory forever. She felt horrible that he had to see that, especially with his history with fire. If they made it out of here alive she would have to talk to him about that. She knew he would blame himself even though there was nothing he could do about it.

The only thing that really kept her warm these past few weeks were her memories. Some of them were from when she was a child, like sitting on her father’s knee or her mother hugging her before she went to sleep. But some were also from a time when Sandor provided her with the warmth she needed. In fact, he was almost always her personal fireplace when she was cold.

She remembered back when they were on their way to kill Cersei and Gregor that Sandor held her closely almost every night. She was actually shocked by it. She never thought a man that hard and tough would actually have the capacity to be warm and gentle towards someone else. She always smiled when she woke up with her face pressed against his chest and his arms tightly enclosed around her. She later found out that he was actually quite cuddly when others weren’t around to observe them, even if he would never admit it. When they arrived to Kings Landing it was the same. She would always climb onto his lap and lean against him as they warmed themselves by the fire.

“You’re heavier than a toad, girl,” he would joke, for which always earned him a scoff and a slap on the shoulder.

“You’re one to talk,” she would mutter while wrapping her arms around his neck. “You probably weigh more than Samwell Tarly.”

Sandor would bark out a laugh and slap her thigh making her squeak. He would always let her kiss him and tell him that she loved him anyhow, even if he was so hefty.

She missed those days. Those days of playing around and not really having a care in the world. It was like a happy little bubble surrounded them.

She was disturbed from her reflections when she overheard the tribesmen marching down the corridor towards her cell. She wasn’t gagged anymore as she needed to eat, but she was still strapped to the floor.

When the boulder was rolled out of the way she was shocked that it was the Chief that was standing before her. He slowly walked over to her and knelt down on one knee so he was at eye level with her.

“Niiya kishkayhta kiiya enn kaann nishtoohtamihk niiya,” he said quietly.

“ _Yes, I can understand you_ ,” Arya said back in his native tongue.

_“Good. You and your man do not give us answers we want. You will die with him.”_

Arya glared at him before she spoke. “ _You are being fooled by the skinny pale face. He is evil one, not me_.”

 _“You lie!”_ he hissed after he shot up to his feet. “ _You kill my father right on sacred land! You are one with devil!”_

Arya tried again to speak to him but he suddenly shoved the gag back into her mouth and tied it painfully tight around her head.

Arya screeched and tried to rip her head away from his hands but it was no use. He suddenly lifted his hand and backhanded her across the face, sending her flying to the ground.

She was then dragged to her feet only for one of the soldiers to stab her in the neck with a dart, successfully drugging her yet again.

The last thing Arya heard before she went unconscious was the Chief ordering for a fire to be built for the happy young couple.

**XXXX**

Sandor was abiding his time. Ever since Arya had come to him in his dreams he now had a drive to get out of this fucking hole and get her to safety. It seemed as though his subconscious knew exactly what he needed to get his spirits back up.

After his dream he devised a plan to get out of here. He spent that last few days beating other inmates until he got the supplies he needed to get out of here. One man had a metal hook he used for fighting, Sandor stole that from him as well as every shiv he could find or beat out of people in the prison.

Two days ago he climbed a rope to the ceiling and pulled another straight out of where it was bolted. He took the rope and metal bit with him to his cell and began to work on a grappling hook of sorts.

He made sure that the line would be secure enough to hold his body weight by tugging at the material as hard he could. When he was satisfied he began creating a device out of multiple other ropes and hooks and fastened it to the rope with knots he learned as a boy. The hook looked at though as it would hold true, but he wasn’t 100%.

When he finished he hooked the metal bits to the edge of his doorway and pulled as hard as he could and it did not budge. He thought that as long as it all went according to plan; he might actually get out of here alive.

He walked out his cell with his grappling hook wrapped around his bicep like a lasso. He saw that several of the other inmates were looking at him strangely, but didn’t say anything to him.

Over the past month and a half he made sure everyone knew who he was and what he was capable of. He already killed four people in the short time he was here. The first day he killed that fucker who attacked him for his shoes. The other three were also stupid enough to think they could also try and sneak up on him. He also made sure he beat them mercilessly and publicly so others would know not to fuck with him. All four he beat to death with either his fists or feet.

When he finally walked to the rope that reached the highest point in the prison he began to climb. He could hear a bunch of the prisoners gathering below to watch him as he made his escape. When he reached the top he hung onto the rope for dear life as he quickly unravelled his grabbling hook.

He tied the end of the rope to his hand before he started climbing so he would drop it. He then began to swing the rope around his head like a lariat and threw the metal hook into the air and over the lip of the hole. When he began to tug he swore when he realized it didn’t catch onto anything. When he threw it again it caught for a moment on something, but it slipped away just as quickly as it caught. He kept throwing for what seemed like ages. His hands were ripping and bleeding all over the rope. His arms were screaming in pain at the length of time he was hanging on, but he was not going to give up. His mind was only focused on Arya and getting her the fuck out of here.

He swung the rope for 11th time and when he tugged on it, the rope went tight. When he tugged on it again it stayed. He started to swing himself so he was both holding onto the grappling rope, but also the rope that was securing his safety, not wanting to fall to his death almost sixty feet in the air.

When he had enough leverage he braced his feet on the wall while pulling on the rope above him as tightly as he could. When he realized that it was going to hold he let go of the rope attached to the ceiling and only held onto the grappling hook’s rope. He started to climb further and further up with his hands sliding up and down the rope from the massive amounts of blood coming from it.

He felt a sudden jerk of the rope and realized that the hook was starting to give out. His eyes went wide and he made the horrible mistake of looking down. He saw that the crowd of people grew exponentially and they were all shouting at him from below. He made a quick decision and started to climb the rope faster before it fell completely. The rope continued to jerk downwards, but he kept climbing. He refused to be this close to freedom only to have it wrenched away from him.

Right when he was about an arms length away from the edge, the rope gave out entirely. Sandor grunted and reached for the vines that were dangling over the edge to save himself, the rope falling down the sixty odd feet to the prisoners down below. He knew the flimsy vines were just as useless as a falling rope. So he quickly pushed off the wall with his bad leg and gripped the rock on the edge. He was dangling there, one handed for a short while before he roared and reached with his second hand to grip the edge. He used what strength he had left to pull himself upwards to freedom.

He rolled as far away from that fucking cavity as far as he could. He looked at his hands and saw they were covered in blood and ripped skin. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. Sweat was pouring from his temples and he groaned when he felt that the scabs on his back had definitely reopened.

When he finally sat up he was dizzy and had to press his fists to his eye sockets to settle his queasy stomach.

He finally stood and walked to the edge of the cliff and saw all the prisoners cheering and yelling while pointing upwards at him. Sandor snorted and tried to look for any clues of where he was located. 

There was the same giant wall of rock that he saw when they first entered the village. He saw that it stretched down west for miles and miles. He didn’t know how far they were from the village, but he could hear voices in the distance. He cursed himself for not having some kind of weapon, but he vowed he would kill all these fuckers with his bare hands if he had to.

He started to walk in the direction of the noise until he saw something scuttle in the distance. He squinted and tried to make focus of it, but was coming up at a loss.

When the thing finally got closer Sandor’s mouth dropped open. Walking towards him was the giant dog that had tried to kill him a few days prior. Its teeth were barred and its yellow eyes were watching him as it slowly stalked it’s new found prey.

**XXXX**

Arya woke and felt a cool breeze tickling her neck. She also heard many voices that surrounded the area. No doubt there were more people to watch her be beaten. She could see the darkness behind her eyelids as well as feel the humidity in the air with the threat of rain. 

When she opened her eyes she was shocked that almost every member of the village was present. They were formed in a circle around the entire spectacle that lay before her.

The Chief, Ryton, and Titus were in their regular spots before her, but off the left was a platform with logs and sticks that surrounded it. In the centre of the platform was a high beam that stretched towards the sky. She knew straight away that was the pole they were going to chain her to. She also knew that their plans were to burn her alive. This was a show for the villagers. It was a way to show them what they did to traitors. They were going to watch her burn alive.

She squeezed her eyes shut and let her chin fall to her chest. She was so tired she couldn’t see straight. She was tired of fighting them and the overwhelming need to just give up and let them kill her was strong.

She felt like most, if any, hope was lost. She just wanted for it all to end. She was tired of being in pain for so long. She just prayed they would spare her love. She didn’t care what happened to her at this point, she just wanted his to be ok.

She barely heard the Chief order to get Sandor and bring him to watch her die.


	26. Sandor

Sandor observed the colossal animal move closer and closer. He refused to take any more steps backwards as he knew the animal would think to ensue a pursuit. Sandor stood tall and tried to keep his breathing even. He was gripping a rock he found on the ground tightly in case he had to defend himself. He could feel sweat perspiring down his forehead and back.

The beast was now at eye level with him. He could smell the coppery odour of blood coming from its breath. Drool was dripping down its jaw and its narrow yellow eyes never left his own.

Sandor recalled when hounds were first brought into Kings Landing over ten years ago. It was he and several other guards that had to train the savage dogs. They were undeniably fervent and refused to listen to any orders until Sandor had arrived. The men were about ready to slaughter the animals as they seemed untrainable. That was until Sandor remembered how his father had trained their own hounds at the Clegane keep. His father had actually wrestled the dog to the ground and bit it on the ear as hard as he could until the dog whined and stopped its trashing. From then on it was relatively easy to keep the animal at bay. Sandor had tried this same technique in Kings Landing and was shocked that it had worked. He was rewarded with a vicious bite because of the attack, but the hounds finally relented and were easy to train after that. Robert Baratheon was immensely thrilled with Sandor because of it, he was even rewarded with gold and wine for his efforts.

Sandor sighed as he realized this would also be the only possibility to control this animal as well. There was no way he could kill such a large creature with one measly stone, no way at all. He prayed to any God listening that it would work, if not for him then at least for Arya.

Sandor readied himself and leaned back a few millimetres and swung the rock as hard as he could into the dog’s nose. The creature stumbled back and whined loudly. Sandor took that opportunity to leap towards the dog and wrap his arms around it’s neck.

The dog thrashed and writhed trying to throw Sandor off, but he refused to let go. The dog barked and growled, vibrating Sandor’s arms but he still did not concede. As he was being whipped around Sandor took a fistful of its hair and lifted himself up the animal and bit down as hard as he could on its ear.

The beast yelped and fell to the ground on top of Sandor making him grunt. The dog was panting and whining but was otherwise completely still. When he was sure that the creature excepted defeat Sandor released its ear and pushed it off of him. He jumped to his feet and stood at the ready in case his plan backfired. However, the monster slowly stood to its feet with its head down in humiliation and defeat. Sandor walked over to the dog and _very_ cautiously raised his hand to pat the dog on its head. The dog whined at first, clearly afraid of what Sandor was going to do, but then began to lean into his touch, moving its head for Sandor to pet the spot it wanted to be touched.

“Calm yourself, boy,” Sandor murmured lowly.

The fur was as soft and exceptionally warm. Much warmer than any other animal he’d ever touched. Its teeth were no longer barred and its eyes were watching Sandor curiously rather than maliciously.

“I need to go,” Sandor mumbled while he slowly backed away.

The dog yelped and took three steps forward to stand right next to him. Sandor exhaled heavily and figured it might be worth it to have a weapon such as this dog, so he turned his heel and just started walking towards the voices he heard in the distance. The dog started trotting next to him happily, completely oblivious to what they were about to step into.

Sandor walked for maybe a half hour before he saw the mass amount of people at the bottom of the hill below his feet.

He squatted with the animal behind a brush and regarded the circle of people surrounding the Chief. His eyes darted around the circle looking for Arya, but didn’t see her. His eyes widened when he saw the platform with the beam sticking out of the centre of it. Several tribesmen were placing twigs, logs, and hay around the platform.

Sandor instantly identified that was a dais used to display the burning of prisoners alive. He knew because he always vomited every time it was used in Kings Landing. He shuddered at the thought that was probably meant for him had he not escaped the hole earlier in the day.

When the Chief stood he ordered one of the soldiers in their foreign language. That was when Arya emerged from the crowd with two soldiers dragging her by her arms to the platform. Her head was lolling from side to side and she looked sickly thin.

Sandor gagged at the sight of his woman being tied to the pole where she was soon to be burned alive. He saw her try to fight back, but she was too weak from the weeks of starvation and lack of sleep.

The thought of her suffering the same fate, if not worse, than he did was enraging. He still remembered how his skin felt when Gregor pressed it to the flames all those years ago. His hands shook and he felt like he couldn’t get a lungful of air. He kept gasping but it felt like when he and Arya were trying to escape Kings Landing. It felt as though he was inhaling a lungful of smoke each time he took a breath. His eyes stung and he felt tears begin to roll down his cheeks and into his beard.

He realized he was panicking but he didn’t know how he could possibly help her. He knew it was impossible to kill all these people with just him, a rock, and a dog that wasn’t trained to follow orders whatsoever.

He then heard the Chief say something that made Arya’s head snap up and glare at Ryton.

“Don’t you touch him! Leave him be! It’s me you want! Leave Sandor out of this!” she screamed.

He saw two guards begin to walk in the direction that Sandor was hiding. The dog began to growl and Sandor put his hand on it’s head, urging the beast to wait for the right moment to strike. He tugged on its fur to creep deeper into the brush so they would not be spotted.

When the soldiers came in full view Sandor waited until they passed him so he could sneak up on them from behind. He shot up from where he crouched and his bad leg screamed in protest but he ignored it. He then took his rock and swung it as hard he could into the back of the soldier’s head. The dog leaped ten feet into the air and bit the other soldier hard on the neck, blood spilling all over the grass beneath its feet. The dog then whipped the soldier around like a rag doll until his head came clean off.

Sandor was impressed that the dog caught on so easily, it was so much smarter than any hound he ever trained. He made a note that if he and Arya survived this he would be sure to train it proper.

He quickly turned back to the soldier he hit and saw he was whimpering on the ground. He straddled the mans shoulders to pin him down and raised the rock over his head and brought it down on the man’s head, over and over again, until the man’s garbles and sobs stopped all together.

Sandor stood and felt the man’s blood had splattered on his face. His hands and arms were covered in blood as well and Sandor reveled in it. He wanted to be covered in the blood of his enemies before he was sure to be killed.

Sandor walked back to the edge of the hill and looked at the village people waiting for the two dead soldiers to bring Sandor to the spectacle.

“You fuckers will be waiting a while,” Sandor muttered angrily under his breath.

He snuck through the tall grass and stood behind a large oak tree. He didn’t know what his next steps were going to be. He just knew that he needed to come up with something quick before the Chief caught onto the soldiers’ deaths.

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait very long at all, because he suddenly saw the Northern and Dornnish sailors charging towards the circle being lead by none other than Burney himself. Sandor almost fell to his knees in relief that they somehow devised such a plan.

Sandor ran down the hill as fast as his bum leg would take him with his new found canine friend following him at his heels. Sandor swung his rock at the closest soldier he saw and sent him tumbling to the ground. He quickly grabbed his spear and swung it at the next man he saw.

His head whipped over to Arya and he saw Ryton grabbing a torch and throwing it to the pile of kindling at Arya’s feet. She was also gagged again and she looked around in a panic as the flames began to rise around her feet.

Sandor screamed and began making a beeline towards the fire, but was stopped when Titus stood in front of him, smiling like a reptile.

Sandor glowered at the man. This was finally his chance; he would be able to kill this fucking rat for hurting her so badly. He wanted to rip out his eyes and eat them. He wanted to chop off his feet and watch him be eaten alive by maggots and rot. More than anything though, he wanted him dead.

He looked up at Arya and saw her big grey eyes were wide in terror. He saw the flames licking at her heels and climbing higher and higher, surrounding her in a wall of fire. She looked at Sandor and he saw her mouth, ‘I’m sorry. I love you.’

Sandor roared in fury and looked over to Burney who had just stabbed a soldier through the eye. 

“Burney!” Sandor yelled. “Get Arya out of that shit, _now_!”

Sandor swung the spear around his head and readied himself for the fight as Burney scurried off to get Arya.

Their spears collided and Sandor felt Titus kick him directly in the broken ribs. When he went stumbling down, Titus then walked over him while smiling, clearly gloating that Sandor had become so weak. He kicked Sandor’s spear clear out of his hands and stood over him with his feet on either side of his hips. Sandor growled and kicked his foot up as high up as it would go, landing his boot right in Titus’ crotch.

Titus howled and fell to the ground holding his balls in pain. Sandor jumped to his feet and kicked the young warrior directly in the head, rendering him unconscious for the time being. Sandor was happy enough with that as he wanted his death to be slow and drawn out. He would never let an easy or quick demise come to this little shit, not after what he did to Arya.

He ran over to the platform and saw Burney was trying to unsuccessfully smother the fire with his coat. 

“S-Ser! The flames! Their too high for anyone to get through!” Burney exclaimed.

Sandor looked at Arya through the fire and saw her violently coughing and sputtering through the gag. She was trying to breath but it was only coming out as loud wheezes through the loud blaze of the fire.

Sandor didn’t even take a second thought as he stepped backwards and took a running start into the fire, leaping as high as he could through the flames and landed on the platform.

“Throw me your knife!” Sandor yelled to Burney.

Burney tossed the dagger which Sandor caught easily and turned to Arya. He made quick work of her gag and then began to saw off the thick ropes.

Both of them were coughing uncontrollably. It was like someone had their hand grasping his lungs and he couldn’t take a single full breath. He was trying to be quick but the ropes were so thick it took more time than he thought. It also didn’t help that his vision was blurring due to the lack of oxygen getting to his brain. The heat of the fire sent him back to a time in his youth when he was hospitalized for his injuries. It was making him sweat and his hands shake uncontrollably but he refused to let it bother him. Not when the task at hand was so vital.

When the ropes were finally severed Arya fell like a rag doll. She would’ve smashed her face against the floor if Sandor didn’t catch her at the last second. He cradled her against his chest and darted towards the edge of the stage. The flames were impossibly high now. He looked around in terror trying to find a spot where the flames weren’t so high, but all he saw was the orange and red heat of the fire. He roared out in rage to the Gods at the prospect of Arya dying in his arms.

“Clegane! Clegane! Over here! Here!” Burney screamed.

Sandor looked behind him and saw that Burney had thrown several coats and saddles in one spot, creating a very small opening for him to jump though.

Sandor ran and jumped through the small opening before the fire engulfed the items put there to temporary smother it. Sandor’s bad leg gave out and he tumbled to the ground with Arya in his arms. He braced his elbows and knees on the ground so he didn’t crush her as they rolled on the ground, away from the burning of the fire.

Arya was coughing and gasping for breath. She rolled away from him so she could get onto all fours and dry heave the empty contents of her stomach. Her eyes were widespread and she looked discombobulated and confused at her surroundings, like she just comprehended what was happening. 

Sandor crawled over to her and yanked her by the arms into his embrace. He crushed her tiny body into his own and squeezed his eyes shut trying to calm himself. He could feel just how thin she had gotten. If he thought she was tiny before, she was skin and bones now. He could feel his heart hammering in his ears and he squeezed his arms around her as tight as he could.

Arya yelped out in pain and Sandor quickly loosened his grasp so he could take a good look at her. Her eye was blackened and there was still a bruise on the corner of her mouth. Her bottom lip was split and she had tears streaming down her face.

“A-Are you alright?” she asked with her voice sounding like sandpaper.

“Are you?” he choked out. He couldn’t believe she was asking about him when she was almost burned alive.

Arya nodded and moved to stand. She winced and held her side like she was in pain. He held her face in his hands and kissed her feverishly, like he was never going to get the chance to do so again. She pulled away so she could breath and he just wrapped his arms around her in total and complete relief. He dreamed of being able to hold her again for weeks and he wasn’t about to let up just yet.

“Let’s kill these fuckers, aye?” she asked looking up at him.

He nodded and kissed her again. He then snatched a spear laying on the ground and stood at the ready, prepared to chop down anyone that attempted to even think about touching her. 


	27. Arya

Arya ignored the excruciating pain in her ribs as she reached to slit the throat of the eighth tribesmen that got in her way. No doubt her ribs were broken, but she worked through worse before. She was a faceless man for Gods sake, she could handle something as minuscule as a mere broken rib.

She was trying to make her way to the Chief to stop the bloodshed before it got worse. She didn’t come here to slaughter their people, she was not Cersei Lannister and she refused to known as such. She also didn’t want her own men to suffer from the betrayal of Ryton and that little shit Titus.

She looked up suddenly and saw a giant man standing above her with his ax raised, ready to bring it down over her head. She screamed and at the last second a spear stabbed the man right through the bottom of his jaw, the tip sticking out the top of his head. Blood sprayed all over her face and chest as the man coughed and choked on his own blood.

Arya turned to see Sandor holding the other end of the spear, saving her yet again from her own stupidity of letting her guard down.

He nodded at her to keep moving and she ducked under Sandor’s spear and sprinted to the Chief. She agilely rolled between another mans legs and thrust her spear behind her and into his shoulder blades. She growled when another man tried to swing his spear at her for which she ducked easily. She kicked the mans feet out from under him and propelled her spear through in his eye. 

When she was tied to that bloody pole ready to be burned alive, the only thing she could think of was that she hoped Sandor would have a quick and easy death. She didn’t want him to suffer because of her. She could barely keep her eyes open as the water torture the previous night was more intense than usual. They kept her up all hours of the night and she only got an hour or so sleep.

But when Burney had appeared she had tried to scream through her gag and tell them to leave her and find Sandor. But the only thing that came out was a garbled mess. She looked over to Ryton and had seen that he was furious that her men had interrupted his wicked schemes. She had even started laughing at him. He truly was pathetic in thinking he could stop her men now.

That was what caused him to retaliate and throw a lit torch into the bundle of kindling at her feet. She didn’t dare give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear though. She just glared at him and prayed that the men would take him hostage. That way they could take him back to Winterfell for Sansa to deal with. Although Sansa was a lady, Arya knew she would tear him limb from limb for hurting her sister.

However, when she saw Sandor charging down that hill with nothing but a large stone to defend himself with, she screamed in panic. What was he doing? He was probably just as weak as she was, probably more so. He wouldn’t survive fighting all these tribesmen with how skinny he looked. She screamed at him to go back, go back to safety and take her men with him.

She was also horrified in seeing a massive god like creature running right alongside Sandor. It was even bigger than the direwolves of Winterfell. It didn’t look like it wanted to kill him though, for some reason it was only attacking the same men that Sandor was. She vowed that if she made it through this she would question Sandor thoroughly about what the fuck happened while she was imprisoned, and how the fuck he became so aquatinted with such a beast. 

“Get back you fucking nit!” she screamed over and over again. But her gag combined with the noise of battle, made her screams fell on deaf ears.

She had a great satisfaction on watching him beat Titus unconscious though. If she lived through this she couldn’t wait until she could tell Sandor about what he forced her to do. He would surely not let Titus’ death come too quickly. She wanted him to suffer for what he did to her.

She was, however, terrified when she saw him soaring through the thing he hated the most to get to her. The ends of his shirt were even on fire when he finally untied her and she franticly put them out as he carried her through the flames.

When she finally got a good look at him she was flabbergasted. His black eye matched hers, his cheeks were hollowed, and he had a enormous bruise on his collarbone that was partially covered by his filthy sark. He looked like he lost half his body weight and his eyes were wild. 

Arya snapped out of her memories when she saw Ryton holding his spear with shaking hands. Arya turned back to Sandor and saw him glaring at him with such vengeance that she could not deny him.

“I want him alive,” Arya said through gritted teeth. “Do what you want with him for the time being, but keep him alive.”

Sandor nodded and stalked over to the man responsible for this entire mess. If she could trust him with her life, she could trust him to keep Ryton’s until she found a more appropriate way for him to die.

As Arya approached the dais she wanted to kill the Chief in some of the most violent ways for hurting her lover. But she restrained herself. If they were going to be uncooperative than she could act out her greatest fantasies of torture, but she would negotiate first. She was her father’s daughter after all.

The Chief was cowering behind a man about the same size of Jon’s wildling ginger friend. The man looked at her like he was amused that she would even try to defeat him, which only fueled Arya’s determination.

When the guard moved to strike her she nimbly dodged his stick by only a few millimeters and twirled to stab him through the scaly armor that covered his stomach. The man fell to his knees, screaming in pain.

He roared in anger and pulled a sharpened stick out of his belt and heaved it straight into Arya’s belly and out again. Arya screamed in pain and fell to her knees. She turned in anger and brought her spear down through his head, right between the eyes. When she removed her spear blood squirted out like the water fountains in Kings Landing.

She looked down and saw blood pouring out of her belly. She grunted in pain and kept moving. She was stabbed a dozen times by the waif, she could handle this as well.

Her head darted to the Chief who was looking at her in pure terror. She stalked over to him and grabbed him by the hair and dragged him to the front of the platform for his entire village to see. She then rolled him onto his belly and stepped over his back so she was standing over him. She gripped his hair as tight as she could and yanked his head up at a painful angle to show his face and exposed neck for the entire village to see.

She could see her blood pooling into the small of the Chief’s back but ignored it.

“ _Put down your weapons or he dies!_ ” Arya screamed at the top of her lungs to the tribesmen in their native tongue. 

As if it was a choreographed dance, every tribesman dropped their armaments in unison. Her men looked between Arya and the tribesmen, completely baffled. Her men still held their weapons at the ready though. Prepared to attack at any moment if things went badly.

“I am going to negotiate,” Arya explained to the Northerners. “If they refuse, kill them all.”

Arya saw Sandor towing a sobbing Ryton to the platform in a headlock. He was struggling in Sandor’s arms, trying to get away. Even with Sandor’s muscle mass and energy depleted, he was still ten times stronger than that little weasel. Ryton’s nose was gushing blood she could clearly see Sandor had broken it. She could also see some of his teeth were missing, no doubt knocked out when Shandor punched him in the face.

Arya’s chest swelled with pride that he assaulted Ryton so seriously. She missed his love, but she also missed his brutality as well.

She continued to speak to the tribesmen in their indigenous dialect.

“ _I am a woman of countless faces,” Arya yelled to the tribesmen. “I could’ve taken the face of your Chief weeks ago and forced you to bow to me. But alas, I showed compassion. We never came here to overthrow you or slay your people. We only came here for exploration, never for bloodshed.”_

She then jabbed her finger at Ryton who now kept still in Sandor’s grasp. _“That man is the one responsible! I gamble he still has the poison he used to murder your Chief in his tent!”_

“ _She’s lying!”_ Ryton screamed. “ _Kill her! Kill all of them!_ ”

Sandor kneed Ryton in the spine making him howl in pain. He then nodded at Arya for her to continue.

She looked directly down at the Chief and placed her spear at his neck, pressing down on it hard enough to frighten him, but not hard enough to break the skin.

“ _We are not. Your. Enemy_ ,” she said finally before standing tall and letting go of her tight grasp on his hair. She was still holding her stomach painfully and saw that blood was oozing in between her fingers.

She stepped over his body and put out her hand to help him up.

At first the Chief stared at her hand as if it would bite him. He looked up at her in apprehension for a moment before he took her hand to help him to stand.

“ _Tell your men to check that vermin’s tent_ ,” she ordered the Chief. “ _I guarantee he was too stupid to get rid of poison. He probably wanted to save it for you._ ”

“ _And why should I even listen to you?_ ” the Chief said. “ _You are a woman. A pale face. You could be lying._ ”

Arya snorted and ordered one of the Northerners to join her on the stand. She commanded him to kill the Chief if he moved or spoke. She then hopped down from the stage and walked to a pile of bodies.

She grunted as she walked, her blasted wound still refused to cease it incessant bleeding.

She recognized one of the bodies as being the Chief’s Second Commander. She kicked the corpse over and took out her spear.

When she started carving the face off the man the surrounding tribesmen were gasping and protesting for her to stop, but she concentrated on the task at hand. When the skin of his face was finally removed she held it up, showing it to the men and women of the village. She wanted them to see just how harsh and feral she truly was.

“Valar Morghulis,” she whispered before taking the face of the tribesmen.

The children of the village screamed and clutched their mothers in fright. The men and women gasped with a combination of astonishment and abhorrence. The Northerners appeared to be proud and honoured that the rumors were true, that their Captain truly was a many-faced warrior. The Dornnishmen’s mouths hung open and looked around like they were hallucinating.

Arya turned to the Chief and saw him crawling backwards like a crab until his back slammed into his throne. His eyes were as wide as the full moon and he was muttering prayers under his breath.

Of course she had told Sandor may times about her time at the House of Black and White, but she always knew he was skeptical. She almost had to bite down on a laugh when she saw Sandor’s face. His eyes were just as widespread as the Chief’s, if not more so. She saw him mouth ‘what the fuck’ with his hand gripping the knife tighter.

She turned back around and looked before the crowd of horrified expressions.

 _“I **am** a woman and I **am** a pale face_,” Arya said in the foreign man’s deep voice. “ _But I am also a many Faced Man. I worship the God of Death. The Faceless Men see death as a gift to end the lives of those who are causing suffering to others. And that man,”_ Arya said pointing at Ryton again _, “has caused all this suffering you see before you today_.”

She turned around and addressed the Chief directly. “ _I was not lying as the pale face named Ryton said. I can take the face of every man, woman, and child in this entire village and make you all kill each other if I so chose. But I do not want to fight you. We. Are. Not. Your. Enemy_.”

The Chief stared at her in utter astonishment. He swallowed loudly and began to rise to his feet. Arya held her hand out to stop the Northerner who was about ready to attack him for moving.

The Chief walked to the edge of the stage and knelt down on both knees and lowered his head.

“ _We do not defy the Gods or Goddesses_ ,” he said quietly. “ _Especially those who are death._ ”

As if on cue, every single village person knelt down with the Chief and began bowing to where Arya stood, muttering prayers under their breath. The Northerners also bent the knee with their heads down in admiration.

Arya removed the face and threw if off to the side unsympathetically. When she took a step forward her belly screamed in protest. She looked down and saw her hands were covered in blood. When she tried to take another step forward her vision fogged and she swayed at her feet.

That was when everything went black.


	28. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :( 
> 
> ....

Sandor sat waiting impatiently while the healers of the village rubbed feverfew, goldenseal and other various herbs and lotions into Arya’s wound on her belly.

Sandor didn’t realize how extensive the gash was until she collapsed right where she stood in the battleground. But when he threw Ryton at the closest Northerner he could see and ran to her crumpled body, he saw that her gut was bleeding like a stuck hog. He picked her up bridal style and was appalled to see her head loll over his arm like a pasty cadaver. He immediately started ordering Arya’s men to bring bandages and medications from the ship.

 _If she dies I will fuck Ryton’s skull with my blade_ , he thought malevolently.

It was truly Burney who assisted Sandor the most. He actually translated what Sandor was saying to the village people. It was then the Chief who insisted that Arya was brought to their medical hut in the village to be tended to. Apparently the local people had advancements in medicine that everyone out East hadn’t even thought of.

Sandor later found out that Burney actually took it upon himself to study the bare minimum basics of the native language while the soldiers were stuck on the ship. Burney learned it from the many books that Ryton had stashed in his room, the ones that he hid from Arya so she couldn’t learn the language as fast as he did. Turned out that Ryton didn’t only learn the dialect from his childhood, but also while they were sailing to the Unknown Islands.

At first Sandor refused to let anyone else touch her. He didn’t want these savages’ hands on her in case they still wanted her to die. He growled and snarled at them when they tried to pull her away from his arms. It was finally Burney that convinced him to let them tend to her. Burney explained that these people valued pleasing the Gods more than any other group in all Seven Kingdoms. They would do everything within their power to keep the prophet who speaks for the Gods alive.

Sandor was skeptical at first, but he saw the pure terror in the Chief’s eyes at the prospect of angering the Gods. Sandor then told the Chief that if he was lying, the God of Death would send the black plague to his village and its people, starting with their youngest babes and moving up to their most valued elders.

The local healer was an old woman, perhaps the age of eight and five, possibly even older. She was mumbling what Sandor assumed to be meditations under her breath as she kneaded the herbs into Arya’s laceration. She was also inhaling a pipe filled with more unknown herbs and blowing the smoke over her wound. She had already stitched the wound so it the bleeding had stopped, however Sandor assumed their main concern was that of infection.

He held Arya’s hand as the old woman worked her treatments. Her skin was cold and clammy to the touch and just as pale as when she passed out cold. Her entire face was covered in blood, dirt, and soot from the fire he pulled her out of. He could see her hair was also caked with blood from someone hitting her over the head weeks prior. She was breathing in and out in short gasps through her mouth, he’d seen enough on battleground to know that death would be upon her soon if she wasn’t helped. Arya’s eyes were also closed but he could see her eyes moving back and forth uncontrollably beneath her eyelids.

He was sitting next to her bed on a stool that was immeasurably too small for his body, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care that his back was aching from the uncomfortable angle he was positioned, he didn’t care that his bum leg was screaming in protest from all the physical exertion from the day, he didn’t care that his arm was clearly broken, all he cared about was the tiny body lying in front of him.

The old woman began placing large blue leaves over the ointment that was caked onto Arya’s wound. She then held out a torch to Sandor, motioning for him to take the stick. Sandor looked over to Burney who was standing quietly in the corner.

“Ootina la flaamb,” she grumbled. “Aen loo ayow wi nipaa didaan shaashkaha.”

“She says the wolf needs to sleep in the light for her to heal,” Burney explained. “I think the healing can only work that way.”

Sandor snorted at their odd ways but took the torch all the same. He placed it in the pouch above Arya’s head and took her tiny hand in both of his again. He blew hot air in between his hands to warm her cold fingers.

The old woman grunted something at Burney before she left the hut completely.

“She said she’ll check on her in the morning. If she is the same in the morning than she will not live,” Burney said softly.

Sandor felt his blood boil towards the old woman. He decided that if Arya died, she would be the first one he would kill in the village.

Sandor saw a bowl filled with water from the falls. He quickly snatched a rag from a nearby table and began cleaning the dirt and blood from her face. When he wrung the cloth, the water turned a muddy red color and his heart clenched. He continued this for about an hour when he realized that Burney had not left yet. He was still standing in the corner watching him clean Arya’s face and chest. Sandor saw that he had tears rolling down his face.

 _How could **he** possibly be crying?_ Sandor thought. _He’s not the one who was stabbed. He wasn’t teetering on a rope between life and death. He also wasn’t the one who was about to lose the only thing that he ever loved._

“Leave us,” Sandor snarled at Burney.

When they were finally alone Sandor knelt before her, clutching her hand in both of his. “Arya,” he whispered. “If you can hear me you have to fight your way back to me. What am I supposed to do if you die? I wont have anyone to listen to my mockery of others if you die.” 

He meant it as a joke, but his voice cracked at the last word.

“I mean it, sweetling,” he murmured inaudibly while kissing her icy fingers. “I don’t think I will survive it if you leave me. I don’t know what the point of living is without you next to me. You gave me purpose in a life that I was squandering,” and then, more quietly he whispered: “You can’t leave me.”

He felt a tear roll down his cheek and for the first time in long time, Sandor let himself bury his head into her side and cry like he never had before. His heart clenched like a vice in ribs. He didn’t even bother to try and choke down his misery, he would fail anyways, he just let his sobs echo through the clay walls of the shitty hut he was hunched in.

He glared up at the ceiling to the Many Faced God, the tears still streaming down his face. “I need more time with her. I’m not equipped for her to leave me yet. She isn’t ready for you,” he sobbed.

He wrapped both his arms around her protectively, like he was shielding her from the God of Death himself.

And even more quietly he growled with more contempt than he thought possible:

“ _She’s mine and you can’t have her_.”

After many hours completely wrecked with worry and sheer agony, Sandor finally fell asleep bent over her bed, still clutching her cold bony fingers in his hand.

**XXXX**

Sandor woke groggy and feeling like pins were sticking into his back. The only sense of pleasure he felt was the small fingers stroking his hair.

He lifted his head with difficulty and saw Arya lying on her side with her fingers in his hair. Her forehead was covered in sweat, she had enormous dark circles under her eyes that were visible even with her black eye. He was still holding her hand and he noticed her fingers had warmed up some, but it still felt like he was holding onto a block of snow.

She smiled softly up at him. “You look like shit, old man.”

Sandor ignored her attempt to jest and grasped her hand tighter. “How do you feel?” he asked.

She shrugged and stroked his face with the back of her knuckles. “You should sleep in a proper bed. Your back is going to be sore in the morning.”

Sandor looked out the window and saw that it was still dark outside. He must’ve only slept a few hours as the sun hadn’t even risen over the mountain tops.

He looked back at her and saw her eyes were half closed and she looked unequivocally exhausted.

“Do you feel any better at all?” he asked.

Arya smiled tiredly and just gazed at him. Her big grey eyes were dull and no longer held the light they had before she was captured.

“I don’t think that matters now,” she murmured. “You need to take care of yourself, my love. I don’t want you to be even more of a miserable shit after this is over.” 

Sandor sat back and stared at her open mouthed. His hands began shaking uncontrollably and he couldn’t get them to stop.

“After what is over? What are you saying?” he demanded. “You’re talking like a fucking crazed woman.”

Her smile widened and she continued to stoke his face delicately. “I’m going to miss your bad temper. It always made me smile at how much of a grump you are.”

Sandor felt sweat begin pool down his back. His breathing quickened and he could feel his heart thundering in his chest. “The fuck you going on about?” he growled angrily.

She quietly shushed him and reached for him. When she grasped his hand his heart broke for how weak she truly became. He lifted his hand so she wouldn’t expend too much of what little energy she had on trying to comfort him.

“It’s okay, Sandor,” she breathed raggedly. “Everybody dies.”

Sandor felt a tear roll down his cheek. He was embarrassed that he was crying like a fucking woman in front of her, but he couldn’t stop himself. Not when she was so openly willing to just give up on him like this like a coward.

“The fuck you say that for?” he asked completely horrified. “Everyone does die. But _not_ you. You are far too young and far too good to be killed this early. What was that shit you were muttering about in the House of Black and White?”

“Not today,” Arya said while smiling sadly again. She lifted her hand to wipe the tear away from his jaw. “But I think I can hear the Many Faced God calling my name regardless.”

“Then you tell him to piss off.”

Arya laughed once and then winced painfully. She was breathing quicker now and she looked as though she wanted to throw up from the pain. She was also clutching her belly, trying to rid herself of the ache. 

“I love you,” she whispered. “I know you hate saying it, so I don’t expect you to say it back. I just want you to know that you were the only man I ever loved before I die.”

Sandor placed his big hand over her cheek and pressed his forehead against hers. “Fuck you,” he growled. “Don’t you dare say that shit to me. You’re not going anywhere. I will say it to you when you are better and not babbling like a fucking mad woman.” 

She just smiled and stayed silent. He kept his head against her own and ran his fingers through her hair quietly. She kept her hand on the side of his neck and was idly drawing random shapes into his skin.

“All my life I thought I would never love anyone the way I do you,” she mumbled. “I saw the way my father looked at my mother and I never thought anyone would love me like he did her. I saw how harsh and hideous the world truly could be, the way Joffrey treated Sansa, the way the Dragon Queen killed all those people…” she took a deep ragged breath.

He could see she was utilizing the last of her energy to tell him this. He listened intently as he knew it meant a lot to her that he heard this.

“I just want you to know that what we had was special, and it meant so much to me in having that. The time we spent together on the ship was the loveliest time of my life. It will be cherished for what little time I have left on this world.”

Sandor choked on a sob and he wrapped his arms around her. He wanted to tell her to shut up and rest. He wanted to tell her that she would be fine, but he couldn’t. He just closed his eyes and kissed her fully on the lips and was heartbroken at how little energy she had to reciprocate.

He pressed his forehead against her chest and squeezed her close to his body. When he glanced up at her pale face her eyes were closed and her breaths were coming in gasps. 


	29. Arya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK! Sorry for the delay!
> 
> Next couple chapters are going to be a little gory and brutal. I may have to extend the story to get it all in. 
> 
> Either way enjoy all the feels we got going on in this chapter!
> 
> Thanks for sticking through and I love all your guys' comments!
> 
> -bebe

_“Arya, you can’t abandon me,”_ she heard a deep voice whimper _. “You must stay. I need you.”_

More sobs.

She could feel the weight and warmth of something on her arm and chest. At first she thought it was a blanket, but the heat radiating off of it was impossible to be anything but a living creature.

Arya was trying to open her eyes to look at the crying man, but it was like someone had placed two heavy stones over her eyelids. She wanted to see the man behind the voice, to comfort him, to make him stop his agonizing sobs, but it was impossible. She loved this voice and the man behind it.

She could also see light shining brightly from beneath her eyelids. She wondered why someone would leave a light burning so brightly in all hours of the night.

 _Is this the beginning of the Many Faced God taking me?_ She thought.

That was when she remembered her talk with Sandor, how she told him to be happy after she left this world. She hoped he would listen. Her heart felt like it was going to fall out of her chest when she spoke to him earlier. His face was bursting with striking agony, he looked an even bigger mess than when she saw him barreling down that bloody hill. She wished she could lessen his suffering. She just wanted him to be happy, that was all she ever wanted.

Arya suddenly felt cold tentacles wrapping around her midsection and chest. The warmth on her arm was stolen from her and replaced with a slithering chill. She tried to scream but the limbs spread over her mouth, just like when she was taken hostage. It was like floppy wet seaweed was constricting around her body and pulling her backwards, pulling her deeper and deeper through the straw mattress. She felt her soul being pulled from her body and down, deep, into a sea of blackness. She felt as though she was drowning, but there was no water. She tried to pull at the shadows traversed over her body, but it was like trying to remove a shadow, it was impossible. She twisted and struggled, but it was no use, the tentacles had her bound and gagged.

When she finally reached whatever destination she was to stop at she was slammed into a stone floor in a pitch black room. Her head hit the floor with a deafening smack and she groaned in pain. The room was colder than the winter nights in Winterfell. It felt like one thousand icicles were stabbing her exposed skin. She shivered uncontrollably and when she tried to wrap her arms around herself to keep warm, the tentacles came back and fastened her arms to her side, rendering her completely immobile.

She couldn’t see anything except for one torch, burning brightly in the centre of the room. Beneath it sat the same large dog that Sandor had charged through the battlegrounds with. The animal was staring intently on her, as if it was waiting for her to do something.

She never felt more small than she did now. She couldn’t see anything, she tried to yell out to someone, but nothing came out of her mouth. She could only stand there, motionless and inaudible.

Suddenly the large canine in the tomb started barking and growling uncomfortably, its jowls snapping and its teeth were barred. It wasn’t threatening Arya though, it was looking off to her right, its head pointed to the sky.

 _“You’ve given the Many Faced God many faces,”_ a booming voice echoed into the small room. _“We are grateful for it. But are you prepared to offer yourself to the Many Faced God?”_

Arya tried to speak but the tentacles were still wrapped around her mouth preventing her from talking. She writhed in the bindings and shook her head violently. She was not ready to give herself to the Many Faced God. Not when Sandor needed her so badly.

_“You deny your calling. You deny the Many Faced God?”_

Arya nodded adamantly.

 _“Even dogs’ faces can be taken,”_ the voice boomed threateningly.

Arya felt tears streaming down her face. The thought of leaving Sandor was heartbreaking, but the thought of him joining her in this dark tomb was even more paining.

_“You are loyal to this dog?”_

Arya nodded again furiously.

_“This dog is loyal to you?”_

She nodded again, her sob muffled by the tentacle gagging her mouth.

 _“He will help her in the future take the many faces that need to be given…”_ the voice said in contemplation.

Arya counted fifteen heartbeats before he spoke again, all the while tears were flowing down her face and she was suffocating on her sobs.

_“Consider this your first and final warning. We do not want to see you again until you and your guard dog have given us the faces we require.”_

Suddenly Arya was released from her bindings and she fell to her hands and knees. She sprinted towards the giant dog as fast as she could muster. The mongrel leaped into her arms and she fell to the hard floor with it. She buried her face in its fur and it burrowed its long snout into her neck, whining like a newborn pup. She pulled back to see its face fully, the dog’s eyes did not match that of an animal. His eyes were soft and brown and full of nothing but miles of ferocious devotion and love.

“Just like Sandor’s,” Arya whispered.

Suddenly she felt the cold tentacles wrap around her ribs and yank her, and the giant dog, up into the ocean of darkness from which she fell.

**XXXX**

Arya’s eyes snapped open and she gasped for air. She felt hot everywhere, like she was buried under a thousand wolf pelts from Winterfell. She kicked and threw the blankets off her body and sat up quickly. Her breaths were coming in gasps and her eyes darted in every corner of the small hut she occupied.

She could feel the heat of the massive torch that overhung her bed. Light was streaming through the small window that overlooked the waterfall. She saw there was a basin next to the bed that was full of blood soaked rags and stitching tools that were no doubt used on her cut up body. The straw bed she was inhabiting was exceptionally comfortable, especially after so many weeks of sleeping in her cell.

There was an aching in her belly that she only felt one other time. She looked down and saw that her shirt was cut revealing her stomach and the bandaging around her freshly stabbed skin. She knew it would look just like the other wounds from when the waif stabbed her repeatedly in Braavos.

She could also feel a sharp pain every time she inhaled that she recognized as her ribs being broken. Yet again. The same pain was in her wrist, that was sprained if not broken as well.

She suddenly felt two massive arms encircling her shoulders and pulling her completely off the bed and into someone’s lap. A giant hand threaded into her hair at the back of her head and pressed her face into an enormous chest.

At first she thought it was one of the tribesmen ready to hold her down and rape her bloody, so she thrashed and kicked, trying to rid herself of the gigantic body trying to keep her still. When the hand released her head she wrapped both her hands around the tribesman’s neck in attempts to kill the man before he assaulted her.

She looked up and saw the familiarity of the big, warm, brown eyes looking down at her. She stopped squeezing the throat, but kept her hands around his neck in shock.

Sandor was looking down at her with the same expression of shock. He still looked awful. It was obvious he hadn’t bathed since the initial attack on the tribesmen, nor was his wounds tended to yet. His bottom lip was raw from him apparently chewing on it in worry. The bags under his eyes remained as well as the split lip from earlier. His beard was much longer than on the ship and she saw that it was greying around his mouth.

She couldn’t think of anything to do nor say. She could only stare at him with her hands around his neck, completely stunned that they were both still alive.

Luckily she didn’t have to make the first move as Sandor removed her hands from his neck slowly. He then put both his hands on either side of her face and yanked her into a bruising kiss.

Arya responded to the kiss immediately and rammed her tongue against his teeth, needy for his touch. She felt his big hands fist into her hair and pull at it painfully. Her nails raked down the back of his head and slid to his shoulders, pulling him closer and closer. She was deprived of his touch for so long she forgot what it was like. She was greedy for his kiss, she needed it like a man needed water in the desert.

She heard herself whine under his aching touch. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. She felt tears streaming down her face and she choked on a sob, but she refused to let him go. She could hear perpetual growls ripping from his chest as he continued to clutch her closer to his body.

He finally pulled her head away from him so she could breath. She kept her eyes open and pressed her forehead against his own. For the first time since she met Sandor she was not embarrassed to be crying in front of him. She let her tears flow freely down her face and let the agonizing sobs echo throughout the room.

Sandor was no better. Fat tears were rolling down his face and into his beard. He was clenching his teeth and she could see he was trying to stop, but he was worsening rapidly. The growling in his chest hadn’t stopped either. He just looked at her miserably and pressed her forehead uncomfortably tight against his own.

He gave her chaste kiss and pulled her into an embrace. His nose was buried in between her neck and shoulder and she felt his tears staining her skin. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders held him as they both wept. She pressed her face into his greasy unwashed hair and just let herself cry.

All the stress of her thinking he was dead washed over her in waves. The sheer relief she felt that he was okay was almost unbearable, she thought she might pass out from the power of it all.

She stayed sitting on his lap pressed against him for an hour, maybe more, before he gave her a final squeeze and sat up to look at her.

His tears had stopped, but hers most certainly did not. She didn’t care that she looked like a ninny in front of him, but she was just so relieved that he was well and in somewhat good health.

He shushed her and kissed her forehead, which only succeeded in making her cry harder.

“Arya,” he whispered, his voice as thick as molasses. “How do you feel? Are you in pain?”

Arya tried to muster the words but she couldn’t manage. She just nodded and tried to control her pathetic weeping.

After the third try she finally was able to speak. Her voice was like sandpaper and it hurt to speak from all the screaming she did the day previous.

“I thought they were going to kill you. I thought the Many Faced God was going to steal you away from me. I… I… I thought…” she couldn’t continue. Another sob broke through and she was unable to speak.

“Shhh… little wolf-bitch. It’s alright,” he said as he took her face back between his hands.

“Are you alright?” she asked wiping her runny nose.

Sandor snorted and tucked a loose hair behind her ear. “You were the one that was straddling the line between life and death, and you’re wondering if _I’m_ alright?”

Suddenly Arya’s eyes went wide and grasped his wrists tightly. She ripped his left hand away from her head and franticly yanked his sleeve up his arm. She wanted to see how severely he burned his arm when he jumped into the flames to save her. She wanted to see what injuries he endured because of her.

The top layer of skin was bubbling and bloody. It was much more severe than first-degree burn, that was for certain. She could see the fire burned through his dermis and affected the deeper tissues. The result was blackened, charred skin that he seemed to be numb to.

“Your arm…” she whispered in horror.

“I’m fine,” he said dismissively.

It was most definitely not fine. She knew how afraid he was of fire and how detrimental that would’ve been for him to fully run through that wall of flames.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she remembered the appalling smell of his burning flesh.

“Sandor…” she blubbered.

Sandor sighed and yanked his sleeve down further. “It’s nothing. You are more important to me than some fucking wound on my arm.”

She felt another wave of tears begin coming down her face.

“This is all my fault. I never should’ve come here. I never should’ve made you come here. I’m so sorry Sandor” she cried. “I never meant for this to happen –”

“– This is not your fault, Arya,” he growled fiercely. “I chose to come here. I chose to do this with you. I would follow you happily to the Stranger himself if that’s what you wanted. I will never leave you willingly. It’s that skinny fucker’s fault, _not yours_.”

He threaded both his hands into her hair, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones delicately.

“I thought I lost you,” he mumbled thickly. “I thought you were going to die. The old healer said you might not survive the night,” his voice broke and he stopped speaking abruptly. When he cleared his throat he gripped her face tighter. “I swear, if you had died because of that traitor I would’ve hacked down every man, woman, and child in this entire fucking village.”

Arya was unable to answer. Her throat was throbbing painfully and she was exhausted even though she just woke from sleep.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder, burying her face in the rough and tangled mess of his beard. Sandor pressed his cheek against the top of her head.

“I love you,” he said squeezing her midsection tightly.

Arya yelped in pain and Sandor quickly ripped his arms away from her and sat back in horror.

“My ribs,” she said quickly pulling him back to her. “They’re broken. Again.”

Sandor nodded rested one hand on the back of her head and the other around her waist, pulling her back to his chest.

“This ok?” he asked.

Arya nodded and nuzzled her face deeper into his neck.

“Never leave me again,” he snarled. “If the stranger ever tries to take your soul from me again I want you to use your water dancing until your fucking fingers bleed.”

Arya squeezed her arms around his neck even tighter.

She could plainly see how distraught he was with the threat of her being taken from him. She could also see that he needed her as much as she needed him.


	30. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More feels!
> 
> I had to add an extra chapter as i wanted this little bit of Sandor's insecurities included. 
> 
> As always your comments and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> -bebe
> 
> .....

“Eat shit!” Arya yelled at Sandor.

Sandor swiftly ducked when a clay bowl came flying through the air towards him. He felt the wind of the bowl miss him by a mere inch and smash into a wall directly behind his head.

Sandor sighed as he stood straight again. “You’re not going anywhere, wolf-bitch.”

Arya snatched a vase on the bedside table and he had to dodge that as well.

Sandor had to continuously duck and dodge to avoid being hit with whatever else she could get her tiny hands on. When he finally made it to stand in front of her, she jumped backwards and jabbed a finger in his face.

“Fuck you!” she screeched. “I am not made of glass! I can go wherever I damn well please with or without your consent!”

Sandor took another step forward so he stood inches away from her. “You’ll have to go through me first,” he growled threateningly.

She snorted and walked three steps away from him, glaring daggers at him.

It had been two weeks since Arya sprang back to life. And although Sandor was beyond ecstatic she was alive, he was also weary of letting her leave their courters as she was still healing. The first few days she was good and stayed in bed to rest. She ate all her meals greedily and even asked for seconds. When she was finished she’d sleep soundly in Sandor’s arms for the afternoon and then would read or practice her water dancing, under Sandor’s supervision of course. He didn’t want her overexerting herself when she was still so raw from her gut wound.

She was probably doing as she was told for once because Sandor was so attentive with her. He missed her so much it was like a constant ache was finally healed. He held her at night, kissed her tenderly, always holding her hand or telling her she was beautiful. It was like they hadn’t ever touched each other before and this week was the first time.

He also made a point not to take it any further than mild kisses or touches. She was still healing after all and refused to fuck her while she was in need of medical supervision.

After the first week though she was a right bitch. She whined and complained several times throughout the day in hopes he would let her at least leave for a walk. Sandor flat out refused. Once Sandor left to get her food and when he returned he caught her dangling out the East window, trying to escape the confined area. He threw down the food and tenderly wrapped his arm around her legs and pulled her off the windowsill.

She screeched and hollered but he still refused to let her leave. Arya shoved off him with a huff and climbed into the far corner of their bed with her back facing him. After that he ordered there be guards at Arya’s door continuously until he felt she was well enough to leave room.

The only time he would leave her side was to get food or check to make sure Ryton and Titus were still held alive in their cells. Sandor declined to let anyone speak or engage with the two traitors until Arya was well enough to give orders again.

The new Chief was more than happy to oblige anything and everything Sandor demanded. Especially now that the tribe thought they were clairvoyants of some kind. Sandor thought it was ridiculous that they thought he was a prophet just because that giant dog followed him everywhere he went.

Everyday he woke up and left to get food the massive mongrel would trot right next to him protectively. In actuality he enjoyed the company of the large animal. The dog was always pleased to see him and was more than happy when he received heavy petting from Sandor. At the night the dog slept right outside the door of the hut, waiting for Sandor to get food. Whenever someone came to the door the dog would bark and growl in warning to stay away from him newfound master.

Arya pleaded and begged to meet the animal but Sandor refused. He would not risk the chance of the dog to attack her, it was a wild animal after all and not a pet, as much as Arya tried to convince him otherwise. He supposed it had something to do with the fact that she lost her direwolf at such a young age and so desperately wanted a substitute. He had no idea what he was going to do with the animal when they finally decided to leave the island. He couldn’t take it with him, could he?

Sandor suddenly staggered backwards when he felt something hard hit him straight between his eyes. He groaned and rubbed the sore spot on his head and saw that she threw her belt at him.

“Savage woman!” Sandor yelled.

“I’m going crazy in this fucking room! I need to leave! I’m fine, my wound is practically healed completely! Look!”

Arya lifted her shirt (actually Sandor’s shirt as hers had to be cut open when her stab wound was being repaired) to reveal the uncovered wound. After the first week the healer took the stitches out and said that she would be fine to be up and about in the next week, Sandor still denied to let her leave though.

“Aye! But your ribs are still fucked. You’re not leaving for at least another week, so quit acting like such a spoiled brat.” he snapped.

Arya huffed and folded her arms across her chest. She was glaring at him like she hated him.

He took a slow step towards her. When she didn’t step back or make a move to throw something else at him, he took another and another until he was close to her again. He put his hand under her chin and forced her to look up at him.

“I need to make sure your health is well before I let you run out into danger again.”

“You can’t lock me away forever, Sandor. There is always going to be danger in this world no matter what,” she said softly, clearly trying to calm him down to see reason.

Sandor grit his teeth and his hands balled into fists. “Doesn’t matter,” he growled. “You’re still not leaving this room until I feel you are strong enough to defend yourself proper.”

Arya let her hands drop and she tried to shove him backwards. Whenever she tried to attack him now he was always heartbroken at how weak she became.

“That isn’t for you to decide! I am captain and I order you to let me out.”

“No.”

Arya looked at him utterly flabbergasted that he blatantly disregarded her order. She snorted in repugnance, side stepped around him and marched to the door.

Sandor took three long strides and snatched her wrist and yanked her back. He put one hand under her thighs and knocked her feet out from under her to carry her bridal style to the bed. He clenched her arms to her side and locked her into place to be sure she didn’t succeed in clawing his eyes out. She screamed and thrashed in his arms but he held her true.

“Let go of me you fucking asshole!” she yelled.

Sandor rolled his eyes at her childish behaviour but otherwise didn’t respond. He knew she was just angry and going a little stir crazy, she didn’t actually mean it. He just sat on the bed as she squirmed in his arms. When she finally stilled he kept on holding her while sitting on the bed, he didn’t trust her to worm away from him if he let his guard down.

Arya refused to look at him and she huffed in anger. They stayed like that about an hour, maybe more. When he started to feel her body relax he looked down he saw that her eyelids were getting heavy. She finally let her eyes close and she was sound asleep.

Sandor gently maneuvered her so she was lying on her stomach and draped over his body. Her arm unconsciously wrapped around his ribs and her leg hitched over his thigh. He softly stroked her back up and down continuously and he heard her sigh in her sleep contently.

 _Gods she’s going to be a violent little thing when she wakes up_ , he thought grimly.

**XXXX**

Sandor left their room after ordering guards to stand watch. He was sitting next to the falls with a flagon of their odd alcoholic mixture the tribesmen concocted. The sun was just about ready to set over the mountains. The birds were squawking loudly in the distance and the southern winds were beginning to pick up. The giant dog he still had yet to name was sitting next to him with it’s tail wagging happily. 

He hated that he was being the same kind of monster that Arya would’ve no doubt been forced to marry. He was just like some shit of a Lord who would keep her locked away and stop her from doing the thing she was meant to do. In all honesty he had no idea if what he was doing was the right thing. He wanted her to be safe, but he didn’t want to make her miserable as well. He didn’t want to be the cause of her sadness or anger.

He sighed a look another long pull from his wine. The dog suddenly started growling lowly, glaring behind Sandor’s back. He heard a crack of a branch behind him and his head whipped around to see Burney walking towards him, also holding a flagon of wine.

Sandor put his hand on the hounds back and soothed him to sit back down, showing him that Burney was no threat.

Burney cautiously sat down next to him wordlessly and placed his flagon in the grass. “That is the biggest dog I’ve ever seen,” Burney said.

Sandor nodded. “I’m not sure if he’s aware he’s not a pet,” Sandor replied.

“All the same,” Burney said. “He’s a good back up to make the enemy shit ‘is pants.”

Sandor grunted in agreement but otherwise didn’t say anything.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, just drinking their wine and watching the water come crashing down from the mountains. Sandor didn’t mind the fat little man. He had brains and now proved that he had balls, so that was enough for him. Moreover, he was loyal to Arya and respected her as his Captain. Sandor was grateful for that.

“I never did give you the praise for leading the men into safe her,” Sandor mumbled.

Burney shrugged and took another sip of his wine.

“Many thanks,” Sandor muttered. “She and I would both be dead if it weren’t for you. You will be rewarded when we arrive back in Kings Landing.”

“I didn’t do it for the reward,” Burney said quietly. “She’s the only authority that ever acted like she gave a damn of what I thought. It is me that is grateful to her.”

There was silence again as Sandor didn’t know what to say in response. He heard a few passing comments about the soldiers’ respect for her, but no one ever voiced it to him so plainly. It made his chest swell with pride that his woman was capable of such revere.

It also made him feel like more of shit for locking her away like he did.

“Clegane,” Burney said waiving his hand in front of Sandor’s face trying to get his attention.

“Huh? What?” Sandor didn’t realize that Burney had even spoke.

“Why has she not come out of her courters? The men are beginning to talk,” Burney repeated.

Sandor snorted and leaned back on his elbows. “Let them. She needs more time to heal.”

“They think she’s dead and you’re trying to take her place as the rightful leader. Just like Ryton,” Burney said carefully.

Sandor snorted at the ridiculous notion but didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to dignify the idiotic notion with a response.

Burney was quiet for a moment before he whispered: “She isn’t the type to hide away from her problems.”

Sandor glared at the young lad. “Watch your step, _boy_. She needs more time to heal, that’s all.” And then, more quietly he mumbled, “whether she knows it or not.”

Burney turned to him with one eyebrow raised. “So you’re keeping her locked away until _you_ feel like she’s better?”

Sandor had enough of his accusations. He grabbed the boy by the front of her jerkin and yanked him close so he could see the anger in his eyes.

“You don’t know anything about it,” Sandor growled. “She’s too stubborn to sit still and heal so I will keep her in that fucking hut until I feel she’s well enough to Captain.”

“So you hold her hostage?” Burney countered.

Sandor shoved the boy to the ground and stood. “You don’t know anything,” Sandor repeated. “Just do your job and keep that cunt mouth of yours shut.”

Sandor turned his back and made his way back to Arya. 

“You can’t hide her from danger forever, Clegane,” Burney yelled. “She may be your woman but she is also our Captain. She has responsibilities that you are keeping her from out of your own selfishness.”

Sandor clenched his fist but didn’t stop walking.

He knew Burney was right. He knew that he was treating her just like she said he did, like a glass doll. He sighed when he realized how much of an domineering shit he really was being. He would never admit that he was terrified she would die on him before they even started a life together. He hated the idea of having to live in this world without her. She still had so much of her life left, he couldn’t help but want her to be as protected as humanly possible.

When Sandor arrived back to their hut he dismissed the guards for the evening. He entered the room and latched the door.

Arya was sitting on the bed reading a book that Burney had brought her from the ship. She didn’t look up to see him, she just sat there fuming.

Sandor sauntered over to her side of the bed with his head down and tail between his legs.

He sat down and reached to touch her leg for which she ripped out of his grasp angrily.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled quietly. “I shouldn’t have kept you in here this long.” He felt her freeze on the bed and wait for him to continue. “I just wanted to be certain that you were okay.”

“And me telling you I was fine was not a big enough indicator for you?” Arya snapped angrily.

Sandor grimaced and grit his teeth at the next bit he was going to say. “I was just…. Scared that I was going to have to endure this shit existence without you again,” he choked out. “I can’t lose you again, wolf-bitch. I won’t survive it.”

Arya huffed and sat up on her knees and crawled across the bed towards him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder and pressed her body into his back. She buried her face into the crook of his shoulder he felt her lips pressing against his neck.

Sandor felt tears stinging his eyes but he refused to let them fall in front of her again. He just let her comfort him like the weak little ninny he’d become.

“I’m not going anywhere, my love,” she whispered against his skin.

Sandor squeezed her tighter in hearing his pet name she made for him. He was shocked that he found it so warming. His old self would’ve thought him as going soft, but he knew the fierceness that came with her love.

“But there is a difference between existing and living,” she murmured before kissing him tenderly on the temple. “If I stay locked away like a maiden in a fairy-tale I would become hollow and cold. I would eventually hate you for keeping me away from my destiny.”

Sandor let his chin fall to his chest in shame for what he did. He swallowed the lump in his throat and just nodded, knowing she was right.

“Hey,” she whispered lifting his heavy head up with her hand. “Hey, don’t do that.”

When his eyes finally met hers he saw nothing but affection and kindness in her big grey orbs.

“Don’t be sad,” she chided quietly. “I know you love me and are just trying to protect me.”

Sandor nodded pathetically and grit his teeth, angry with himself for being such a selfish bastard. When she kissed him he gently lifted her onto his lap with her legs dangling over his thighs. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he left his arms secured tightly around her.

When they parted she pressed her forehead against his adoringly.

“I’m going to need to wear something besides your sark if I’m going to be taken seriously out there,” she said humorously.

Sandor nodded quietly. “I’ll ask the Chief to get you something from the tribeswomen,” he said.

Arya smiled at him and gave him a chaste kiss. “Good. Make sure they don’t mind if it gets covered in blood. I want to have a chat with Ryton and Titus tonight.”

Sandor smiled in anticipation of what his wolf-bitch was going to do in revenge on these two bastards for hurting her.


	31. Arya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK! We are almost done y'all!
> 
> WARNING: This chapter is extremely graphic. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THESE TYPES OF THINGS. 
> 
> I told myself each chapter would not be more than 2000 words, but yet again, i needed more. So we doubled it!
> 
> I felt they were getting a little soft in the last few chapters. We all know how violent these two can be, so I wanted to showcase that truth as much as possible with this. 
> 
> Thanks so much for all the comments and kudos! I wouldn't have kept up with posting if you didn't, so hats off to all of you! 
> 
> ...
> 
> -bebe

Sandor left Arya to change while he ordered the men to bring Titus and Ryton to a tribunal in front of the falls for the tribe to see. Before he left he brought her some clothes made out of the same scaly material that the tribeswomen wore.

The night was cool, but not too cold for her Northern blood. The moon was full and cast an eerie blue hue over the village. Arya could hear the men and women gathering to see what would become of their once fearless Captain and the pale face that betrayed the prophets.

She hated the clothes more than she would care to admit. The revealing fabric showed off her midsection and arms. The top and trousers were also tremendously tight and showed off what little curves she thought she had. The deep cut of the top would make even the most scantily clad woman blush. She thought she looked ridiculous, like she was some whore in brothel trying to seduce a man with her skin.

She was excited to finally leave the hut though. Once Sandor explained himself she could hardly stay angry with him. She knew he was concerned about her and she was glad that he finally saw reason, even though it took over two weeks to do it.

She knew being scared was not something he was used to feeling, hence why he acted so irrationally. He was scared of losing her again and he acted as he normally would, with the most extreme precaution and stubbornness he could muster. She had thought she tamed that side of him at this point, but apparently she was wrong.

She admitted she was also a little sexually frustrated. Since she was stabbed he refused to touch her. Even when she would kiss him and let her hand run down his stomach he would always catch her by the wrist and tell her that she needed to heal. She missed his skin on hers and she was constantly touching herself at night when he was asleep. She knew when they finished this she would demand that he fuck her good and proper, just like how he used to. She was sick to death of living like a monk.

Arya also decided to keep the promise she made to herself in the caves. After they were done here, she would agree to do whatever it was he wanted. And as much as she said their age difference was no matter to her, she knew he was only getting older and he probably couldn’t handle this much stress and physical fortitude anymore. He had endured so much in his life, she didn’t want him to suffer any more, especially at the hands of her own decisions.

She actually was excited to tell him all this. She was eager to see his face when she would tell him that he could plan the next adventure, whether that was setting sail to Pentos and becoming sell swords, or even just buying a house in the South and becoming a boring old farming couple. She didn’t care, she just wanted to be with him and keep him happy. Forever.

When she exited the hut she made her way to the crowd of people in front of the falls. When the tribespeople saw her, each and every one of them made room for her to walk through before they bent the knee, the Northerners followed suit as well.

She suddenly heard a barking noise and she turned to the fields and saw the massive animal that apparently imprinted on Sandor was tied to a tree. It was fighting against the rope, trying to run to the spot where Sandor no doubt was situated. She decided that she would force Sandor to let her touch his new pet at a later time. She missed Nymeria fiercely, but new that she had found a new home. Just like Arya did with her new mate.

When she reached the river bank she saw Titus and Ryton on their knees bound and gagged with Northerners holds swords to the backs of their necks. She was delighted that they looked positively petrified as she made her way to stand in front of them.

Sandor was standing next to the Chief with his back turned to Arya and the rest of the crowd, facing the two newly found traitors. When she stood next to him she saw his eyes rake up and down her body for a few moments before turning back to the men.

“What you wanna do?” he asked quietly.

Arya looked coldly at the two pathetic men. They truly looked just as terrible as Arya and Sandor did when they were imprisoned in the caves. Both had deep circles under their eyes and were soaking wet, no doubt from the same water boarding Arya underwent. She saw Titus’ right eye was swollen shut from being hit in the face and Ryton’s nose was clearly broken and still gushing blood. His neck had purple marks on it from someone, probably Sandor, choking him. She also saw that Titus has blood pouring from his belly, probably a stab wound he suffered from a torture session.

 _Say what you want about the tribesmen and women, but they certainly have effective torture methods,_ Arya thought.

“Which one do you want?” she asked Sandor just as quietly.

Sandor shrugged noncommittedly.

It was then Arya remembered she hadn’t told him what Titus had done to her. In fact, they didn’t really discuss what had happened when they both were in the caves at all. When she first came to, she didn’t want him to get even angrier that she was beaten and brutalised the way she was. He was incredibly fragile, even though he would never admit it. He just needed a week of her loving him as best she could. But now she had an entirely different feeling about the whole situation.

Arya sighed and realized that this was the first time she wanted Sandor to kill someone for her. She was too weak and lost too much weight to inflict the pain she wanted to on Titus. And she needed him to carry out the act for her if she would be granted the vengeance she so craved. She was stunned that she wanted to unleash the Hound’s full ferocity and rage on the man that wronged her. She was a warrior, a soldier, and faceless man, since when did she need some big beast of a man to defend her?

She suddenly understood she wanted Sandor to have his retribution as well. She wanted him to feel better for having his woman tormented for so long. She knew immediately how to unleash the Hound’s full savagery.

She grabbed the front of Sandor’s cloak and pulled him down so she could whisper in his ear.

“I think you want Titus,” she whispered dangerously. She took a deep breath and braced herself for his reaction. “He’s been wanting to fuck me since I arrived. In the caves he tried to rape me –”

Sandor interrupted her by ripping his head away from her so he could get a good look at her.

“What the fuck did you just say?” he snarled.

Arya looked at him seriously and gripped his shoulder tightly. “He forced his cock into my mouth and I tried to bite it off. He punched me in the face and then burned me that very same day for hurting him and his ego.”

Arya didn’t even notice his hand on her hip until he started squeezing it painfully tight. His nostrils were flared and his eyes looked like wild fire. He was grinding his teeth painfully. His head then whipped to where Titus was kneeling and glared at him with a malevolence that Arya had not seen in his eyes since he killed Gregor.

Sandor stood tall and let his arms drop to his sides, his fists clenched and shaking. He gave her a curt nod but she could see he was barely keeping his anger in check.

She looked to the Chief and he bowed his head and muttered a prayer of some kind that Arya did not catch the entirety of.

 _“These men are on trial for misleading our people,”_ the Captain announced to the crowd. _“We will let the pale-faced seers decide what we do with them.”_

“Burney,” Arya beckoned. “Come over here and translate for Sandor.”

Burney came running over and stood next to Sandor, quietly mumbling what the Chief had said.

 _“These men are responsible for the death of your people,”_ Arya yelled. _“What do you do to men who have killed your sons and hacked down your soldiers?”_

_“Kill them! Kill them! Kill them!”_

Arya looked up at Sandor and gave him a quick nod before speaking. “Have at it.”

Sandor stomped over to Titus and ripped out his gag.

“Burney!” Sandor barked. “I want to hear what this fucker is saying!”

Burney scurried over to Sandor’s side and translated for him.

“You think your can get your putrid, tiny, prick slobbered on by my woman and live to tell the story?” Sandor growled while pointing his sword at Titus’ crotch. “You dumb enough to think dogs let rats touch their bitch?”

“ _You are no holy messenger. You are nothing. Just because you can talk to dogs doesn’t mean you are one. You are just a pale face with a woman that can’t remain where she belongs_ ,” Burney translated. 

Sandor knelt down so he was nose to nose with Titus.

Arya remembered how he always like to be up close with his kills. She remembered how he hated bows and poison as it wasn’t personal enough for him. He liked seeing his enemies die slowly at his hands.

“Aye, I am not holy. But I am as animal as they come. And you harmed my wolf-bitch,” he growled as he stood to full height.

“And _she was as sweet as lavender. She liked it when I put myself in her mouth. She even licked me until I spilled myself all over her,”_ Titus lied. _“She doesn’t want some old man who thinks he is still a match for someone like me. She needs a young man that can make her swollen with child and keep her in check.”_

“Hold him down!” Sandor shouted at the Northerners.

Sandor snatched the sword from Burney’s belt and held it at Titus’ throat. Arya’s mouth actually dropped open when she heard him order the men to drop his breeches. When Titus tried to oppose, Sandor pressed the tip of his blade into Titus’ throat until a small bead of blood was drawn.

Arya clenched her teeth when his pants were dropped revealing his bruised cock. No doubt he was still sore and discolored from her biting it in defence. She couldn’t help but feel pride that she had hurt him so bad that her mark was still showing weeks after she hurt him. 

Sandor glanced down at Titus’ cock and chuckled. He sheathed his sword and drew a dagger and pressed it to the tip of Titus’ stem, making the young man yelp in pain.

“Tiny cock needs a tiny blade,” he hissed. “My wolf-bitch did that to you?” Sandor asked in regards to the tarnishing colour of his penis.

When Titus didn’t answer Sandor pressed his blade harder into the sensitive skin and he yelled out an avowal.

Sandor chuckled maliciously again. “Aye, she’s almost more wild than me. Almost.”

With that Sandor grasped the head of Titus’ cock and carved the blade through his manhood, severing his cock off completely.

Titus let out bloodcurdling scream. Blood spayed out the end like some kind of grotesque fountain and stained his thighs and breeches. Titus fell to his knees grasping the small crux with bound hands where his manhood once lay. Blood pooled on the grass and seeped through his fingers. Tears were streaming down his face and his screams of agony echoed over the mountain tops.

She turned to Ryton and saw him shaking uncontrollably. He was staring at the now dismembered tribesman and looked to be hyperventilating. She smiled as she couldn’t wait until she could kill the man that started this whole plight.

Arya overheard women and men gasp in horror behind her. She could hear children scream at what was not doubt going to happen. She also caught some of the men muttering that Sandor was just as much of a sick mongrel as the rumors proved to be.

Sandor was standing over him with his shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he was breathing hard from the adrenaline of the kill. His hands were covered in blood and she saw he was still clutching the dagger in one hand and Titus’ detached cock in the other.

Arya saw him kneel down to Titus’ level and stuff the severed cock into the traitor’s mouth.

“You wanted your cock sucked? Now you have the chance, _boy,_ ” Sandor growled. “Someone give me a gag!”

One of the Northerners ran over and handed him a soiled rag with trembling hands, clearing terrified of Sandor’s actions. Sandor tied the gag around his neck with the cock still lodged in his mouth.

“Choke on it you bastard,” he muttered.

Arya kept her face neutral with her hands clasped behind her back. She knew the entire village as well as the Northerners would be watching her right now and she needed to keep calm. She wasn’t sickened by Sandor’s display of violence. Quite the opposite, in fact. She was proud of him and happy that she chose him to do the deed. Through all his years of experience with death and violence, he would know the proper way to exact revenge on her behalf.

Titus was screaming through the gag and the detached appendage on his hands and knees. He was producing a sickening sound that was a combination of a cough and a retch. The now empty space between his legs was covered with a mixture of clotted and fresh blood. The nub was looked raw and hacked, like it was cut with little to no care of the assailant. His testicles were coated and dripping with the gore from the whole scene as well.

Sandor stood to full height again and walked around Titus to stand behind him. Sandor placed his boot between his shoulder and kept it there in conquest. Titus was still on his hands and knees with his pants still around his ankles. Arya could see that he was clearly trying to humiliate the man in front of his own people and she couldn’t be more pleased.

“I want you to watch my woman while I rape you with my sword,” Sandor whispered.

Arya couldn’t help the small smile that spread across her face.

When Burney translated with a shaky voice Arya looked at him with a raised eyebrow, warning him to grow a backbone or get the fuck out the way. The last thing they needed right now was having him pissing his pants because he couldn’t handle Sandor’s brutality.

When Sandor placed his sword at the centre of Titus’ bottom, he went deadly silent. His eyes were looking up at Arya, pleading to make her to yield.

 _“You will get no such mercy from me or my dog,”_ Arya said flatly before Sandor penetrated Titus with his sword.

Titus screamed again and again, but Sandor did not relent. His continued to fuck Titus with his sword over and over, not even blinking an eye when blood sprayed all over his hands and boots.

Titus’ bowels released and oozed to the ground through the massive gouge Sandor was creating in his bottom. The tip of his sword actually pierced through his belly while it was inside him, spilling his entrails all over the crisp, green, grass. The putrid smell of piss seeped down his legs through the nub Sandor had cut off. Sweat was pooling across his forehead and temple. Blood and drool started to seep out the corner of his mouth and down his chin. His eyes were turning red and she could see a blood vessel pop in the left socket. He was pleading through the gag for Arya to make Sandor stop, but she kept her mouth closed.

Finally, Sandor stopped and Titus instantly fell to his belly. Arya saw his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He was trying to gasp for breath but was having no avail. She could see that he was evidently out of understandings and was inches from death.

She walked forward and saw Sandor was breathing in and out heavily, drunk on the blood and torture. She knelt down to the dying Titus and lifted his head by his hair.

“ _The North **always** remembers_,” she growled in his ear before letting his face fall back into the mud.

When she stood Sandor looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to give the word that he could end it. She walked over to him and cupped his cheek gently.

“Let him suffer and drown in his own blood and shit,” she whispered gently to him.

Sandor nodded and she turned to a quivering Ryton. When she started to walk towards him he screamed and tried to back away on his knees.

“You thought you were clever, didn’t you?” Arya said with her hands clasped behind her back. “Did you really think you get away with this?”

When he tried to answer it was muffled from the sound of his gag. Arya nodded at the Northerners to remove it.

Ryton spat out a lob of blood before he could speak. “You never deserved such a title! You are a disgusting savage animal! You and your fucking dog!”

Arya ignored his answer and took out her valrayian dagger.

“Hold him down,” she ordered the Northerners evenly.

They threw him roughly onto his back and pinned his arms and legs down. Arya then stepped over him and sat down on his chest with her knees on either one of his biceps.

“You thrive on the sea, aye?” she asked coldly. “You like seeing the ocean and navigating to your next little adventure?”

“Fuck you!” Ryton yelled.

“Pity, it will be difficult for you to navigate without any eyes.”

With That Arya held open his left eye lid and began carving his eye out of the socket with her blade.

Ryton screamed and yelled. When he started moving his head back and forth, trying to escape her, Sandor marched over and held his head still so she could finish her work.

She got about halfway through and realized she couldn’t remove it completely without another tool. So she reached her hand into his head and pulled it out. She then did the same with the right eye as well.

Blood poured out of his eye like waterfall. It squirted across Arya’s face and lips, but she didn’t care. She wanted this man to suffer for what he did to her and Sandor. She hated this man. This man needed to die if was the last thing she did.

When she finally finished she wiped Ryton’s blood off her hands and onto his tunic and stood. His screams had reduced to an odd gurgling sound. Two bloody black holes replaced his eyes and he was still trying to move his head back and forth, even though Sandor still had a firm grip on his head.

Sandor looked up at her wondering her next move. He stood and stepped over Ryton and looked down at her.

“I want him to suffer the same fate he was going to give us,” she said quietly.

Sandor looked at her in confusion for a moment. When she raised an eyebrow she saw the look of realization come across his face and he nodded, understanding her meaning and stepped out of her way.

Arya took out her needle and placed it on Ryton’s jugular. “You tried to burn me alive. You wanted my mate to watch. Now we will both watch you.”

Arya ordered the men to strap him to a log and carry him to the centre of the village where a massive fire was kept to cook the village meals. She wanted to see him roast over the fire like the pig he was.

Titus thrashed against the bindings and tried to rip himself away from the men. When they had finally strapped him in securely they lifted the log, and Ryton, off the ground and began carrying him to his death.

When they marched to the centre of the village Ryton was still screaming and hollering but no one was listening. They tossed the log he was strapped to into the fire, he writhed and screamed even louder than Titus did. His face happened to be wedged against the glowing ambers of a large oak tree, burning his left cheek completely, leaving a hole to burn through the gums in his mouth. The decaying smell of burnt flesh and hair permeated the air. Arya watched as his skin bubbled and blistered, melting off his muscles and bones. The blood that did seep through dried almost instantly from the heat of the expansive fire. His fingers turned to bones, displaying the stark white of his skeletal makeup. He stopped squirming at one point and she knew he was already dead.

She turned to Sandor and saw his face glowing from the light of the fire. He was watching the man burn and she could see that he was satisfied with his death.

Burney on the other hand was gagging and bent over, trying to empty the contents of his stomach.

 _“We all see what happens when we anger the Gods!”_ The Chief suddenly announced. _“They will burn you to ash and cut away your limbs! We will honor the Gods and the men that speak for them! We will never let the disease of lies and deceit infect our people ever again!”_

Arya translated quietly for Sandor while Burney was still vomiting. She actually had to bite down a laugh at how fragile he really was. She knew he had to have mustered up any and all courage to lead the attack to take down Ryton. She would remember to reward him back in Kings Landing.

Arya looked around and saw that the tribesmen and Northerners began to lower themselves to their knees and bowing their heads out of respect. She saw Sandor was about to lower himself as well, but she grabbed his arm and forced him to stay standing.

“They honor you too, my love,” she whispered lowly. “You are just as worthy of this as I am.”

Sandor grasped her fingers tightly before he interlaced them together in unison.


	32. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And that is a wrap! 
> 
> Lol, remember that time i said that this would be much shorter? Yeah... only 20,000 words less than my previous work! haha
> 
> I cannot thank you all enough for sticking with this for as long as you did! The comments, bookmarks, and kudos have really kept me going. I know this couple fandom is something of a niche crowd, so i was so happy to find you all on the vast inter-web! 
> 
> Again thank you thank you thank you!!! I love you all and I hope any and all of my future works include such awesome characters as Sandor and Arya! 
> 
> ...  
> -Bebe

“Rat cunt!” Sandor growled when his stubbed his foot against the bedside table.

He was trying to pour another glass of the wine-like concoction and his bad knee was acting up again, making him stumble into the furniture.

It seemed the caves and torture he endured did nothing to help his shit knee. Other than that, it appeared that his litany of other injuries was healed for the most part, aside from the burn on his arm. He saw that it was healing a lot better than his face did as a boy. It wasn’t bubbling or swelling too much, just inflamed. He knew he would gain another repulsive scar from it, although this time he was not ashamed of it. In fact, he was proud of the injuries he sustained in the battle against the tribe. He received the wound for aiding his woman. It was probably the first injury he sustained that meant something.

The lashes on his back were received from a father that hated him, the lacerations and cuts were from his service to a King he despised and disagreed with, the burn on his face was from a brother that was never really a brother. This scorch on his arm was actually for the woman he loved. He would wear it proudly as a badge of honor rather than something he should be ashamed of.

Sandor actually had to take a few deep breaths when he thought of what she went through in the caves. They never discussed what happened. Since she never brought it up, he just assumed she took a beating similar to the one he did. He never would’ve guessed in his wildest dreams that she was almost raped. He assumed she would’ve told him such a thing.

His nostrils flared at the thought of that dirty little rat forcing his greasy undersized cock in his woman’s mouth. He clenched his fists and tried to calm himself with the breath technique Arya taught him, but it was no use.

“Fucking savages!” Sandor screamed while his fist shot out and broke through the clay wall.

He stood there breathing in and out rapidly before dislodging his hand from the wall. Small bits of clay crumbled to his feet from the sizeable hole he put through the wall. He looked down and flexed his hand and could tell that it wasn’t broken, although it was bleeding profusely.

Sandor swallowed and braced both hands on the wall and let his head drop.

 _Calm down_ , he thought. _That fucker is dead and there’s nothing more you can do._

He wanted Arya. Right now. He wanted to see her and touch her. He wanted to affirm that she was alright. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair and hear her tell him that she loved him.

When Ryton and Titus’ bodies were burned, the entire village applauded and cheered. They began tugging at the both of them and speaking quickly. Arya told him they wanted to host a celebration of the Gods and Goddesses. They also said it was bad luck for them to wear the blood of the men that wronged them, that the clothes needed to be burned.

Sandor wanted to leave this blasted village and never turn back, but Arya agreed to their festivity and told Sandor that they were safe because they were scared shitless of them both.

So here he was, sitting on their bed and trying to get as drunk as possible before he had to attend. He always hated party’s and mild chit chat. He hated seeing all those people laughing and drinking in happiness. He would have a much better time alone with Arya drinking in their room than he would at some fucking celebration with strangers.

When Arya agreed she was whisked away from his side with the Tribeswomen. They wanted to give her proper new clothes to dress appropriately for the occasion. Sandor nearly ripped their heads off when they started pulling her away from him. He damn near punched the woman that was tugging on Arya’s arm so hard she let out a hushed hiss. He finally allowed her to leave his side, although it took a lot of convincing on her part.

Sandor heard a loud rapping on his door. He opened it to find Burney standing there, holding folded clothes in front of him like the servants in Kings Landing.

“I brought you some extra clothes from the ship,” Burney said brightly.

Sandor snorted and took the gift. “You walked all the way to the ship to get me some fucking clothes?”

Burney grinned and pulled a bottle of Dornnish wine out of the back of his pants. “And this, of course.”

Sandor couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. As he stepped aside to let the young lad inside. As Sandor changed into clothes that didn’t stink to the high havens, Burney poured them both a glass of wine.

“How much longer you think the Captain wants to stay?” Burney asked.

Sandor snorted as he laced his breeches. “Hopefully not any fucking longer. I’m sick of always having a blade at my throat.”

Sandor downed is glass in one go and snatched the bottle. “Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled.

Burney laughed once and made his way to the door. “You really don’t like anyone do you?”

“Almost nobody,” he replied quietly.

When they finally made it to the village center, Sandor saw a large fire with men and women dancing around it, even some Northerners drunkenly joining in. The sky was clear, with stars twinkling brighter than he ever saw before. The breeze was still cool, but the blazing fire was clearly keeping everyone warm. The women had traded their traditional fighting garb with long flowing dresses in various colors. The men were still dressed the same, but their hair was down and their chests and arms were painted much more elaborately. At the head of the fire he saw the heads of both Titus and Ryton on spits, which made Sandor smile vindictively.

There were four chairs on a platform watching the swaying crowd. Sandor recognized the Chief and his wife off to the left and there was someone else on the right he didn’t quite recognize as he was too far away. As he approached the scene, Sandor actually felt his jaw fall open when he realized it was Arya.

“Holy shit,” Burney whispered under his breath.

Arya’s hair was braided elaborately by her temples, almost making a halo around her small head. There were tiny multi-colored beads decorated in her freshly washed hair. She was wearing what looked to be a feather light lilac colored dress. The neckline itself was not immodest, but the fabric seemed to be tied to the back of her neck showing off her dainty shoulders and milky skin. He watched as she bent forward in her seat to grab a piece of fresh fruit and saw that her entire back was bare. The dress even showed off the two delectable dimples on her lower back that he loved to press his thumbs into when she was riding him late in the evening. The dress was also synched at the waist showing off her gorgeous figure that only Sandor ever had the pleasure of seeing. Her feet were bare, but the fabric flowed down to her ankles and fluttered in the breeze like a soft sheet on a close-line.

Sandor actually felt the same as he did when they shared their first kiss. His palms were sweaty and his mouth felt like it was full of wool. His cock was actually hardening as he stared at her and he found himself readjusting his pants so not to show. He felt like such a green boy but he couldn’t help it. She looked edible.

He assumed the empty chair next to hers was for him. So Sandor swallowed loudly and made his way towards the platform.

He slapped Burney in the back of the head as he said: “Stop staring at my woman like that, you fucking cunt. Or I’ll cut off your cock the same as I did that savage.”

Burney quickly averted his gaze and sputtered several apologies before scurrying over to a group of Northerners sitting by the fire.

Sandor climbed up the platform and sat down next to Arya. She looked up at him under her thick lashes and raised her eyebrows. 

“Took you long enough,” she said. “I thought I would have to send a search party to go looking for you.”

Sandor grinned at her and accepted a glass of wine from a servant.

“Aye,” he said quietly. “Had I known I would get to see you in a dress I would’ve ran over much quicker.”

Arya rolled her eyes at him but he observed her trying to bite down the smile that was threatening to show on her face.

“Li Boon Jheu l'oneur kiiya too aen enn fimel loo la lunn mooshkinew,” the Chief said leaning on Arya’s armrest.

“He said the gods honour us with the full moon tonight,” Arya translated. “I think it has something to do with the sun symbolizing male energy and the moon female energy. Full moon is something else though. I’m still not sure on what they mean by that.”

“Bunch of voodoo witch horseshite,” Sandor muttered. He couldn’t help but watch as she leaned forward again to grab another piece of fruit. Her bodice was pushing her breasts up and it looked even more appetizing seeing it at that angle.

He had to actually swallow a growl when her hand absentmindedly lay on his thigh, just like how she would if they were alone in their chambers. It was apparent that this mild public display of affection no longer bothered her, so Sandor pretended not to notice. Even though it was making his bones warble and his blood rush. Sandor guzzled his wine when her index finger began moving in tiny circles on the inside of his thigh.

He called over another servant when his glass was empty. He was no where near as drunk as he needed to be if he was going to trust himself to keep his hands off her tonight.

Suddenly the drum beat switched and the young wife of the Chief hopped up out of her seat. The Chief opened his arms and she sat right down on his lap. He then whispered something to Arya lowly and she nodded with a curt smile.

“What?” Sandor asked.

“He said the Gods will honor us during some kind of a scared song or some shit, I don’t know,” Arya muttered while moving to stand. “Either way he wants me on your lap to complete some kind of ‘voodoo horseshite’ as you put it.”

Sandor grit his teeth but didn’t argue. When she stood he really got to see her in the dress silhouetted by the light from the flames. She looked absolutely stunning. 

Not trusting himself, he kept his hands glued to the armrests as she perched herself on his lap. The heat coming off her bare skin was intoxicating.

They continued to sit for well over an hour. The tribe and Northerners continued to dance around the fire. The elder that Sandor recognized as the woman who healed Arya was throwing dirt into the fire and muttering some kind of hex or prayer of some kind. No doubt, blessing the group of pale faces.

Sandor huffed in annoyance. He didn’t like all this magic and all these people. Not to mention he couldn’t find a servant to pour him more wine and he was becoming more and more sober than he’d like to be.

Arya leaned in so her lips were at his ear.

“I want to see your dog.”

Sandor swallowed loudly before he could speak. She was so close to him that he could smell the raspberry perfume the women gave her.

“He’s hardly my pet. He’s a wild animal.”

Arya rolled her eyes and jumped off his lap. “Fine. Then I want to meet your wild animal,” she said.

When he still didn’t move she grabbed his hand and tugged hard. “Come _on_ , Sandor. I know you hate this shit anyways. I’m giving you an excuse to leave.”

Sandor sighed but nodded. He knew she would get her way eventually anyways.

They said their goodbyes to the Chief and the men and made their way to the field where the dog was tied. As they approached the canine began yipping and jumping up and down in excitement.

“Oh, he’s so beautiful,” Arya breathed.

Sandor grunted in amusement. Although, seeing her face light up and gaze at him with a wide smile made him extremely pleased with himself. He hadn’t seen her look like that since they first saw the Lost Islands.

“Careful, sweetling,” he murmured. He didn’t want her to be attacked by the bloody thing because she was so excited.

He stood behind her and put his hands on her hips to prevent her from running towards the damned thing. He carefully began walking slowly toward the animal who looked overjoyed that he was approaching. When they finally were about a foot away, Arya reached out her hand and let the animal sniff her palm.

Sandor almost groaned when the animal immediately began licking her hand happily. A part of him really didn’t want the animal to like her. He knew that she would ask to take it back to Kings Landing and he wouldn’t be able to say no to her.

Arya stepped forward and scratched the animal behind his ears for which he purred in response. Sandor didn’t object as the animal now liked her, and he could get a better view of her gorgeous body from behind. He was so distracted that he didn’t even see Arya untie the dog from it’s bindings.

“Arya…” he said in warning.

“He’s fine,” Arya said. “You wouldn’t hurt me now, would you?” she said directly to the animal.

He grunted when the animal was released and began bounding up and down before dashing to Sandor’s side, demanding to be petted.

“You are adorable,” Arya teased.

“Fuck off.”

Arya laughed and stood so she was pressed against him. She lifted her arms and pulled him down so she could kiss him. At first Sandor tried his best to keep the kiss modest. He still wasn’t sure if her body was healed proper enough to be man handling her like he used to. But when her tongue rammed into his mouth his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he couldnt stop the groan that escaped his lips. Arya moaned in return and tried to deepen the kiss only to have Sandor pull away. 

“Arya,” he said in warning. She, however, tightened her grip around his neck and demanded the kiss to be reciprocated.

He finally pried her off of him and she glared at him in annoyance. He had to swallow loudly when he saw her plump swollen lips and the feel of her bare skin on his hands.

“What?” she demanded. “Do you think I’m ugly now that I have more scars?”

“What? No!” Sandor exclaimed.

“Do you think I’m tainted now that I’ve had Titus' cock in my mouth?”

“For fuck sakes, girl. No!”

“Then what?”

Sandor exhaled heavily. He didn’t know how to say this without sounding like a cunt. He just didn’t want to pressure her into doing something that she wasn’t ready to do.

“You’re in pain. I can’t fuck you when you’re still healing,” he finally answered.

To his dismay Arya snorted and rolled her eyes at him. “It’s been weeks, Sandor. I’m fine.”

“You think I don’t want to?” he exclaimed. “Seeing you in that fucking dress makes me want to fuck you right here in the grass!” Sandor ran his hands through his hair trying to get some kind of a hold on the situation. “I don’t want to fuck you now and have you hurt later.”

Arya pressed herself even closer to him. She rested her hands on his chest and ran them up and down, making his cock twitch. When she finally looked back up at him, she was gazing up at him with hooded grey eyes and slight smirk on her face.

“Your wolf bitch is horny,” she whispered seductively. “You going to leave me in heat with all these men crawling around, my love?”

Sandor’s heart was pounding in his chest. He’d never seen her look at him like she was now. It was normally him that was the instigator of their trysts, rarely her. He realized she must be serious since she could barely keep her hands off of him since the fire in the village.

“Fuck it,” Sandor growled.

He scooped her up into his arms bridal style and made his way to their hut.

He decided he didn’t care when or if they left the Lost Islands. If she wanted to spend the rest of her days here he would contentedly follow. If she wanted to take over Kings Landing, he would be by her side. He didn’t care what happened as long as they were together. She was his only piece of happiness that he ever found and he swore he would not squander it.

“I love you,” he said confidently with no shame this time.

“Forever,” she said nuzzling her face into his neck.

He swore that he would spend the rest of his days making her happy. He would never hurt her or make her do anything she didn’t want to do. He would never deny her anything she wanted. He would kill for her, die for her, and do anything she requested. He would worship the ground she fought on if so asked. He wanted to see her just as she was now. Smiling happily up at him with nothing but love and admiration her eyes.

...The End.


End file.
